


Are We Running Free Today?

by SheSaysInParantheses



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance, The Young Blood Chronicles - Fall Out Boy (Music Video)
Genre: Biracial Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Japanese Venom Brothers, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Show Pony, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Fabulous Killjoys (Danger Days) Are Not MCR, brain washing, fun ghoul bouta blow shit up, how does one tag, how the fuck does this work, idk where this is going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-22 11:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 30,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22649380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheSaysInParantheses/pseuds/SheSaysInParantheses
Summary: Poison wakes up to the sound of music and finds a complete stranger making a bomb on his counter and acting like he owns the place. Poison doesn't trust him, but Kobra and Jet seem to think this is a-okay and well...Shit happens
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 97
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [genderfluidslytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/genderfluidslytherin/gifts).



> hi and thanks for clicking on this!  
> I'm used to fanfiction.net so I have no clue how to tag if you couldn't tell. This is also my first danger days fic and I don't even know where its going so.  
> This idea came to me out of the blue and I still don't have a plot but.  
> Enjoy!

Party Poison wakes up to the sound of music.

For a second, this doesn't concern him- in fact, he even starts drifting back to sleep, until he realizes he never leaves the radio on overnight. Batteries are few and far between, and when you do find some, they're expensive as fuck. 

Therefore, something's up. Poison quickly grabs his ray gun from the ground next to the moldy mattress and stands up, careful not to wake Kobra Kid or Jet Star, who are still fast asleep. It takes a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark, but he's already moving, a year of muscle memory helping him not step on the random tools that made the floor a minefield. (Jet must have failed in getting Kid to pick up. Poison adds 'berate younger brother' to his mental list of things to do today.)

He stands in the doorway for a few seconds to think this over. The Room is an empty storage space and doesn't have any windows, but some sunlight is streaming in from the Diner's main windows. The light's bright, so it's probably around noon, meaning Poison has only had about 2 hours of sleep. (Everyone in the sands tried to sleep during the hottest and the coldest parts of the day.) 

Right, so it isn't a group of Dracs because they're a. listening to music, something BL anything never does, and b. they aren't actively attacking. It also probably isn't any sane person- everybody knew not to fuck with the Killjoys. In other words, it's either someone too blue-lined to tell up from down or a dumbass with a death wish. 

Poison follows the music to the Kitchen, which is separated from the actual Restaurant part. There, sitting criss-cross on the counter like they own the place, is some random ass kid. They're bent over some trinket or another on their lap, shoulder-length black hair obscuring their face from view. What Poison sees is his own radio is on the counter next to the kid, turned to Dr. D's station (Poison can tell cos it's playing some classic rock, and the current trend across the Zones is punk. Dr.'s never really been one to follow what all the other kids are doing.) 

Party finds himself simply watching the dude until the end of the song. The kid keeps tapping their foot to the music, and they hum along gently. Poison can't make out what exactly they're tinkering with, but they're using some of Kobra's tools, Pois notices. This is what snaps him out of his trance.  _ Who the fuck does kid think he is? _ He turns the gun to stun mode, making sure he makes some noise to alert the kid of his presence.

"I was wondering when you were gonna do that." the kid says, still working on the thing in their lap. 

"Who the fuck are you?" 

The kid sighs and sets their project down on the counter next to them. Party realizes it's a bomb, a small one, and his eyes widen.  _ What the fuck? _

The kid pushes themself off the counter, flipping black locks out of their face to reveal hazel eyes and a smirk. Despite their short stature (and what Poison's dubbed them for the time being), the dude seems to be only a year or two younger than Poison. 

(They're also quite good looking, but Poison decides to ignore that for now.)

"Wow, okay, I see how it is. Maybe they were right when they said never meet your idols." the kid's pretty obviously checking Party out, and had it not been something he'd gotten used to over the years, he might have blushed. 

"I asked you a question."

The mysterious intruder huffs like they have any right to be annoyed. "Name's Fun Ghoul, if you just so badly need to know."

Oh.

_ Oh. _

That's why his face is familiar. Fun Ghoul is pretty high up there in the Zones. Dr. D has had Fun Ghoul on his list of possible alliances but never had the time to reach out. He's an infamous bomb-maker, always blowing BL shit up. 

He's also known for being an expert pickpocketer, Poison's rational mind reminds him. He does a quick inventory of what he has on him- he's wearing the same worn through jeans as usual, but his belt and holster are still in the Room, along with his jacket. His shirt is loose and sleeveless, and his boots only hold a small dagger. Nothing of any value that could be stolen, then.

(Poison also realizes his hair probably looks insane with bedhead. Jet had helped him re-dye it last night, and he's sure red still stained the tips of his ears.)

"So you've heard of me before." it isn't a question, and (not for the first time) Poison curses the fact that Kobra was the one without the visible emotions. 

Party shrugs and keeps his tone cold, "What are you doing here?"

"Doc's told me a lot bout you." (Okaaay, maybe Dr. D  _ did _ reach out to Fun Ghoul. Party's gonna have a talk with him real soon.) "And what I haven't heard from him, I've heard from rumors. And what I've gathered is you want BL gone just as much as I do. Basically, I'm saying we could work together. I've got something big planned, but I'd need you guys working with me for it to work."

Okay, what the fuck. Does this dude think he can waltz into Killjoy territory like he owns the place and ask for an alliance? 

Hell to the fuck to the no!

"And why would I do that?"

"Look, man, I'm not saying you have to give me an answer right now. Talk to your crew or whatever. Just saying that we have a common enemy and I have some pretty big plans I think you'd want to be in on. You know where to find me if you change your mind." The small man shrugs and turns on his heel. "Adios." 

And just as quickly he appeared, Fun Ghoul leaves. 

Poison sits down at one of the booths, a million questions running through his mind at once. He's in the same place an hour or so later when Kobra eventually wanders out to grab some coffee and sit with his brother. Jet comes a few minutes after that, sitting down and making a list of supplies they needed to get at the next run on a piece of cardboard.

The trio sits in silence. In all honesty, Poison doesn't have much intent to tell his crew about the visit. The answer is a solid no. There is no way the Killjoys are gonna team up with some random bomb maker they don't even know. That's the plan, at least, until Kobra speaks up. "You gonna explain why my tools are all on the counter?" 

Party lets out a long, tired sigh, not even bothering to think of an excuse. "Some kid named Fun Ghoul was 'ere, making a bomb on the counter, blasting music. Woke me up. Said he wanted some kinda alliance."

"Alliance?" Jet's eyebrows hit the roof. "Whadya say?"

"Said I'd talk to you guys about it, but I don't think we'll take up the offer."

"You're kidding, right?" Kobra asked. "That kid's smart with bombs, quick with his hands..." Poison shoots him a look, and he quickly defends himself. "'M not saying he has to join our  _ crew,  _ but we could use an alliance like that." 

"I'm with Kobes on this. That kid's good to have on our side."

Poison's mouth opens to argue, but Kobra cuts him off before he can. "And if he knows where we are, Dr. D might've been the one to send him. And if there's anyone we can trust out here, its the Doc. 

"We don't even know this kid!" Poison honestly feels betrayed. His gut instinct is to not work with this kid, and Kobra and Jet could not care less. 

"Then we get to know him! C'mon, Pois. He turns out to be a total dick, we can walk away." Jet gives him a signature Mother Knows Best Look and Poison caves. 

"This is insane. I can't believe you think this is a good idea." His words are sharp, but he leans back into his chair, and Kobra and Jet breathe a sigh of relief. 

"Did he say where he's located?"

"Said we'd know where to find him. I didn't think we'd actually  _ agree  _ to this, so I didn't ask further."

"Okay, then lets radio the Doc. He'll know what's up."

(Screw Jet for being rational and smart.)

(Honestly. Why did Poison even bother being the acting leader?)

(Poison does not feel good about this, but if its what Jet and Kobra think is best, then... he may not have much choice.)


	2. Chapter Dos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Killjoys visit Fun Ghoul's HQ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyy, its ya girl.  
> Just putting it out there that there is no update schedule on this story and you should probably expect most of the chapters to be around this length instead of the length of the previous chapter cos that boi was *long*.  
> Also this is more of a filler chapter if anything so sorry if it's a bit (or a lot) boring.   
> This is dedicated to my boy jason cos he decided to just up and leave back to america so like.  
> i dunno im grieving.  
> aight cool.

The Killjoys end up at an old, abandoned motel in the middle of Buttfuck Nowhere, Zone 5. Poison's gotta give the kid some credit- a Dead Pegasus stop isn't too far, and Zone 5 is one of the most overlooked Zones, up there with Zone 6. In other words, it's a pretty good HQ. 

Not that Poison would never admit that out loud, of course.

Dr. D had given them the location once Poison stopped yelling at him about letting a "3-feet-tall flirtatious demon bomb maker" know their hideout. 

(Yes, Kobra had been right about Dr. D backing up the alliance with said 3" demon.)

(This is why siblings suck, just saying.)

Jet takes a step forward. "Fun Ghoul?" 

Silence.

Jet turns to Poison with a face like, 'Well? Do something,'. Poison rolls his eyes but calls out, "Hey kid! It's the Killjoys! We wanted to talk to you about your offer!"

Again, their calls meet silence, and then suddenly, a crash sounds out and echoes through the empty, collapsed walls. There's a scuttle as Fun Ghoul trips over himself in his hurry to meet the Killjoys. Party scoffs at his eagerness. (Okay, yes, it's cute, shut the fuck up. Poison doesn't have feelings, ex _ cuse  _ you.) 

The boy shoves raven hair out of his face with a huge smile that seems to swallow his face whole. "Milkshakes! You guys came!"

"Hey. I'm Jet Star," Jet pipes up, ever the polite man.

There's a beat before Jet pokes Kobra hard in the ribs. "Kobra Kid. 'M Kobra."

"Nice to meet y'all. Why don't I give you guys a tour?" Ghoul turns on his heel and leads them inside. There's not much to tour them through, though. Most of the walls separating the rooms are either crumbling or crumbled. Rubble and trash lines the floor, with the occasional tool or electronic piece. In one corner of the main space is a mattress, and in the other is a tiny kitchenette that's missing a fridge and an oven. 

"Sorry about the mess. Not much you can do out here in the Zones."

"Trust me, I'm used to it." Poison mutters. Ghoul shoots him an amused grin, which Poison duly ignores. 

"Hey! I clean up all the time!" Kobra says, y'know, like a liar. 

"Jet, tell me, when's the last time Kobra cleaned?"

"Um, maybe... Wait, wasn't it right after you got your bike, Kobes?"

Kobra thinks about this for a second. "Yeah, that seems about right."

"And how long have you had this bike, Kobra dearest?" Poison brings Kobra into a headlock, ruffling his hair playfully.

The answer is 3 years, and as soon as Kobra realizes this, he shoves Party away, face turning red. "Shut the fuck up."

Ghoul's sniggering at the front of the line, reminding Poison of his presence. God fuck, how'd he already semi let his guard down?

Ghoul pushes open an old door leading to a pool. The pool is devoid of water, obviously, but it is lined with even more tools and pieces of bombs. 

_ Lots _ of bombs.

Poison can practically  _ hear _ Jet internally freaking out over what a safety hazard having a bunch of explosives just laying about unprotected and in a concentrated space is. 

Ghoul slides down the sides of the once swimming pool and sticks the landing, arms in the air like a...what was the word? Cheerleader, like in the books Party sometimes found. 

Jet applauds, and the sound echoes against the concrete. It's a lonely, lonely place, and saying Poison is a bit uncomfortable would be an understatement. 

"Thank you, thank you." Ghoul bows, a grin stretching across his face. "The room we passed through was mine. And this," he artfully kicks a tool into the air and catches it, using it to gesture out at the pool. "Is where I make all the fun stuff."

"All the fun stuff." Poison repeats under his breath softly. 

Kobra slides down after Ghoul (in a considerably less graceful manner), and they start talking animatedly about bombs and tools and blah blah. 

Jet sidles up next to Poison. (Jet does this a lot; go up to people and give them sage advice no one asked for but everyone needed.)

"They seem to be getting along well."

Poison grumbles but doesn't try to fight it. 

Jet turns towards him, expression half-pleading, half-knowing. "C'mon, Pois. Admit it. This alliance could be a huge help." 

If there's anything Poison is, it's stubborn. But even he knows when to admit he's wrong.

"Yeah, you're right." 

Jet Star gives him a Proud Mother look, and Poison rolls his eyes for, like, the 5th time that day. 

The leader of the Killjoys clears his throat, and the two boys look up from they're messing with the bombs. 

"Can we go somewhere to talk?"

\-------------

"Wow. Okay, that's a lot. You weren't kidding when you said this was gonna be big."

Ghoul looks up and shoots Poison an excited smile. (No, he's not cute, shut the  _ fuck  _ up.) "Yeah, it's a lot, but if we pull this off..." Ghoul shakes his head, "It'd be fucking worth it."

And he's not wrong, that's for sure.

Kobra sends Poison an expectant look, like 'c'mon Pois, just say it.' 

Poison glares at him but sits up a bit straighter. "All right, kid. We'll do this with you."

Ghoul looks like all of his dreams have come true. 

"But! This does not mean you're part of the crew. This is an  _ alliance,  _ not a join-up or whatever, we clear?"

"Crystal." Ghoul claps his hands, a persistent grin still flirting with his lips. "So, when do y'all wanna start?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave some kudos or even a comment if youre feelin spontaneous. I'd love to hear your feedback.   
> Sorry again if it was boring it should hopefully get better eventually lmao.  
> Byeeeeee,  
> xxstella


	3. capítulo tres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> docta d time suckas (lmao)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy  
> so like last time i said expect more or less a 900 word count. well this one certainly exceeds that lmao.  
> also were on break rn which is why ive gotten out two chapters this week, but when school picks back up, updates will be a bit slower.  
> also this felt a bit all over the place but i mean enjoy!

The four continue to talk through the plans until the sun begins to set, and they realize it's too late to start the hour and a half drive back to the Diner in Zone 4. This means, much to Poison's chagrin, they're gonna have a fun lil' sleepover with Fun Ghoul. 

It is the best option, and he knows that. Driving in the dark in the sands fucking sucks, and they're planning on driving out to Dr. D's all together anyways.

"How do you manage all by yourself anyway?" Kobra asks as they plan who's going on watch shift when. It's pretty rare to see a loner in the Zones- survival is more realistic when you have people to fall back on when things go all Costa Rica. 

Ghoul shrugs. "Luck and a lot of energy drinks." 

Jet snorts. "You and Poison will get along just fine," he says. Now it's Poison's turn to snort, and Ghoul grins at him, cocky attitude back.

"Will we, now?"

"So! I take the first shift, then Ghoul, then Jet, then Kobra. Sound good? Good, cos that's the plan." Poison promptly ignores Ghoul. 

"Alrighty then, boss. G'night." Kobra picks up the spare blankets they managed to find in the 'Am and marches off with Jet to find a comfy place to make a nest. 

Poison looks at Ghoul, who he finds is watching him. "Whatcha lookin' at, bomb boy?"

"Nothin'." Ghoul grins again, standing up from the floor. 

"You should probably get some shut-eye, then."

Ghoul bats his eyelashes in a faux-flattered manner, "Aww, you  _ caaare _ ." 

(Poison hates that he kinda does.)

"Nah, just find you annoying." Poison gets up too, ready to head outside, probably listen to music in the Trans 'Am till his shift is over.

"Uh-huh, sure." 

"I'm tellin' you kid, I don't have feelings." Poison wags his finger at the kid, amused. 

"Yeah, sure you don't, firetruck face."

"Go to sleep, asshat."

"Yessir." Ghoul straightens up and salutes him, but Poison's already gone. 

\-------------

Poison is  _ this  _ fucking close to dropping to the ground and kissing it when they finally reach their destination. The entire ride had been full of nonstop chatter. Jet was right when he said Kobra Kid and Ghoul were getting along well. They talked throughout the entire ride, which was the most Poison had seen Kobra speak to someone outside of their crew. 

But Poison's trying to ignore that for now. 

Show Pony is the one to greet them. Dr. D's crew consists of Agent Cherri Cola, Dr. D, and Show Pony. They change location every month or so, but they mainly live out of tents with a van full of their recording and broadcasting set-up.

Pony skates up to Poison as soon as he's out of the car. "Well, if it isn't the Fabulous Killjoys," they say, grabbing Poison's shoulders and kissing the air around his cheeks. 

"Yo, where's Cherri?"

"Am I not good enough for you?" Pony tsks in a mock offended manner, "Running some errands."

"Hiya, Pony," Jet says as he climbs out of the passenger seat. 

"Hey, Fro-Fro. Oh, and my Snake Son. And," Pony kisses each of the other Killjoys on the cheeks but pauses when they come to Fun Ghoul. "Ah. You."

"Yes, me." Ghoul glares up at Show Pony. (It' pretty funny how small Fun Ghoul is next to Jet, Kobes, and Pony.) But also what? What's the history there?

"And what are you doing here?" Pony asks, looking down their nose at Ghoul. 

"Uh, he's with us. We gotta talk to the Doc 'bout something," Jet says, sensing the tension in the air. 

Show Pony looks over at Poison for a second, and Poison raises his eyebrows for a millisecond.  _ 'I trust him enough.' _

Show Pony narrows their eyes ever so slightly.  _ 'He does one thing out of line, and there's gonna be some trouble.' _

Poison widens his eyes and raises an eyebrow, looking at Ghoul, and then back at Pony.  _ 'What'd he do?' _

Pony shakes their head minutely.  _ 'I'll tell you later.' _

The silent conversation lasts about a second, and then the five turn to go inside. Poison can hear Kobra ask Ghoul what's with him and Pony, to which he replies, "Nothin'."

Dr. D is sitting by a makeshift table, bent over a scrap of paper, scribbling what's probably some bullet points for the next broadcast. "Hey there, crash queens."

"Sup, Doc?" Ghoul asks.

Dr. D turns his wheelchair around to face the Killjoys plus Ghoul. Pony hoists themself up onto the table the Doc was working on, peering at the group curiously.

"I take it this visit is about your plans, Ghoul?"

"Yup! The Killjoys agreed to the alliance!" he says with the same excited attitude he's been using whenever they bring up the plans. 

"I may be old, lil' bugger, but I ain't blind just yet." says the Doc. "Let's go to the Van, talk about your plans a bit more," he suggests, and the group happily obliges.

The Van is chock full of radio equipment and papers. The group of six can barely fit inside, especially with the Doc's wheelchair, but they make it work. 

"So, I've got a few crews I think would be willing to help you guys out. I also have a few dates here where you can make announcements, all'a that..."

\-------------

_ And now a short pause for a Show Pony and Party Poison moment: _

The rebels are still organizing announcements and speeches to say over the Doc's station when Party sees Show Pony exit the back of the Van for a smoke. He excuses himself to go talk to them.

He finds them leaned against the back of the station, lips pursed around their cigarette. Poison plops onto one of the chairs nearby and mooches a cig off Pony.

"So...what's with you and Ghoul?" 

Pony cringes. "I dunno. We just got off on the wrong foot, really. Caught 'im tryna steal from a few stands." 

Ah. Dr. D's crew works in the Market a lot, a place up in Zone 1 where most Zone Rats get their supplies. Motorbabies get their sand legs under them there, get set up in the zone life. 

Show Pony looks downcast for maybe 2 seconds (honestly, a record) before they perk up again. "But, hey, I can forget a silly ole' grudge if you're gonna go all pastel on this kid." They wiggle the eyebrows at the Killjoy.

"Ew.  _ Ew. _ Destroya, no. First off, I don't do pastel. Also, I don't like him like that. He's annoying. Thirdly, no tengo  _ feelings _ ." Poison counts off on his fingers, purposefully doing a horrible Spanish accent.

Pony hums. "Ghoul likes you, though, yeah?"

"He  _ idolizes  _ me, there's a difference. I'm Party Poison- everyone in the Zones and outta 'em has a crush on me before they find out I'm an asshole."

"Yeah, that's a bit of a dealbreaker, innit?" 

"Whoa, no, hold up. You're supposed to say," Poison flips his hair and raises his voice at least 5 octaves to imitate his friend, "Oh Poison, you're not an asshole!  _ I  _ love you!" 

"Now, why am I supposed to say  _ that _ ?"

"Basic friendship rules, dude."

"Isn't another one of those rules, 'don't lie to your friends'?" 

Poison scoffs, holding a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "Okay, I get it, I see how it is. Good day, Show Pony." He stands up, storming off back inside the Van.

"Pois-" they say through giggles. 

"I said gOOD DAY!" 

\-------------

Kobra raises an eyebrow at Party when he returns to the Van. " _ What was that about? _ " he asks in their mother tongue.

" _ Why Pony dislikes Ghoul. Apparently, he tried to steal from some stands in the Market." _

Kobra makes a contemplative noise and looks back at what the Doc is talking about. Nobody is phased by the random language change, except for Ghoul.

"What language was that?" He asks as Party takes a seat next to him.

"Nunya."

"Nunya?"

Poison smirks. Nobody's fallen for that trick in a while. "Nunya business, kiddo." 

Ghoul narrows his eyes at him but turns back to their discussion. "So, I was thinking about including the Lobby," he says.

"Uh, how 'bout no?" Kobra says. 

No, for a lot of reasons. Well, more like three. 

  1. Poison and Kobra have some shitty memories of that place from the short time they were there before they made it out to the Zones
  2. Jet has a bit of a phobia of underground places
  3. Juvee Halls and Zone Rats have never gotten along 



But, as Poison thinks it over, there are also some pros to meeting with some Juvee Halls.

  1. The tunnels of the Underground were highly useful for getting around the City
  2. More people to help
  3. If people saw the Killjoys working with Juvee Halls, there would be a bit of peace, and hopefully, more organized riots would happen



"Well, which Juvee Halls are you talking about?" Poison says, carefully. He can feel both Kobra and Jet's eyes on him, probably wondering why the fuck he's even considering this.

"The Youngbloods. They're like, the Killjoys of the Underground."

(It really is the other way around, as the Youngbloods came first, but Poison doesn't really care cos his ego just got a massive boost.)

Poison looks over at Jet and Kobra. 

_ "No, I'm not doing this,"  _ Kobra says, back to their mother tongue.

_ "Think of all the pros, though. We get more people on our side, we can use the tunnels, and a peace treaty sort of arrangement."  _

Jet's eyebrows are furrowed, trying to decipher what they're saying.  _ "Okay, but I'm not going to the Underground." _

_ "They could always come to meet us." _

Jet sits back, satisfied. They both turn to Kobra, eyebrows raised. Kobra thinks about it for a fat second, during which Party can hear Ghoul asking the Doc if they 'always do this.'

"Only when they don't want someone listening," Doc says.

_ "Okay, fine. I don't like this, though,"  _ Kobra finally decides.

"Alright, we'll work with the Youngbloods," Poison says, turning back to the other two. 

"Well, that's good, because they should be here in about...5 minutes?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is the language theyre speaking, you may ask?  
> youll just have to wait and see  
> (i fucking love my headcannons, i hope you do toooo)
> 
> thx for reading!  
> xxstella


	4. kapitel vier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pew pew  
> boom  
> idk man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like i dont know much about the youngbloods so if anyone seems really out of character, have mercy and help me out in the comments lmao  
> this chapter kinda sucks and its pretty short ngl but the next chapter should be out soon cos its already basically written  
> also a moment of appreciation for remi (genderfluidslytherin) everybody go shout thanks in the comments  
> WAIT SORRY CAN WE JUST. REMI WAS LIKE PATRICK IS SHORT SO I LOOKED UP HIS HEIGHT. HE'S 5'5". PETE IS 5'6". ANDY IS 5'5". AND FRANK IS 5'6". THEYRE SO T I N Y

The first thing Poison notices about the Youngbloods is the lack of color. Black on black on black- Party wants to take a few cans of spray paint and give them a massive makeover right now. 

The second thing he notices is there are only three of them, even though there's supposed to be four of them. 

The third thing is that they're running from what appears to be two Drac Trans' Ams. 

(The real third detail is how short two of them are- the redhead and the dude with a stupid fedora must be like 4 feet tall. Party almost remarks that maybe Ghoul is secretly a Juvee Hall, given how small they all are. But that's not as important as 'they're running from Dracs', so Poison doesn't add it to the list.)

"Oh shit," Kobra says, and the Killjoys are out of the Van and running towards the Drac's 'Ams, ray guns pulled and at the ready. The Youngbloods run through them to the Van, and Poison can vaguely hear Doc ushering them inside. 

Poison takes the lead, shooting at the back tires (he's a better shot than the rest of them), while Jet and Kobra shoot at the Dracs. In creepy unison, the Dracs in the passenger seats of the respective cars lean out of the windows and start firing right back. The Killjoys dive to avoid getting shot, Party and Jet going left, Kobra going right. 

Poison hits the sands hard but keeps shooting until there are a satisfying pop and skid as the tire on the first car gives out. This would be great, except for the fact that now the car is spinning out of control...

And heading directly for the second half of the Venom Brothers. 

"Fuck! Kobra!" Poison and Jet scramble to their feet at the same time, but the second car is still shooting at them, and they have to hit the deck again to avoid dying. 

Kobra's trying to move and get out of the way, but crab walking in sand isn't exactly a walk in the park. He's not gonna make it out of the way. He's going to die.

Holy shit, he's going to  _ die. _

He's going to _ die, he's going to die, and it'll be all Poison's fault- _

And then there's an arm reaching and pulling Kobra up, and then the car blows up right before Poison's eyes, and then the second car is gone too, and Poison still can't process this, still stuck in 'Kobra' s-gonna-die' mode. 

And then Kobra's there, in his arms, and he snaps out of it.

"Oh my god, oh my god, dear Witch-" Kobra wraps his arms around Poison's middle, very much there and very much alive. Jet piles on too, the Killjoys hugging each other tightly like they'll never let go.

Poison brings a hand up to hold Kobra closer (he's  _ alive)  _ and looks up to see Ghoul a few feet away, standing awkwardly and staring pointedly at the ground.

Ghoul must've been the one who threw the bombs. 

Ghoul  _ saved _ Kobra. 

Ah, fuck, hating this kid is gonna be a lot harder now.

"Hey!" Poison calls out, and Ghoul looks up. "Thanks, kid. We owe you one."

Ghoul smiles, genuine. "You stop calling me kid, and I'll call it even."

Kobra works his way out of the pile to wrestle Ghoul into a noogie (Zone Rats can't exactly publicly show affection. The huge group-hug the Killjoys have made is quite rare.) "You saved my life, man. Thank you."

"No problem," Ghoul says, still trying to be nonchalant about this.

"Yo, do you just...keep grenades in your pockets?" Poison asks in an attempt to lift the mood. 

"I-"

"Don't answer that," Jet says, tone warning. "Do not- I don't wanna know."

Poison throws his head back in a laugh, acutely aware of Ghoul watching him. 

And listen. Poison's not dumb. Too many Zone Rats have crushed on him for him not to know the signs. Show Pony might've been right, sure (they usually were), but so was Poison- this dude's crush is gonna be gone after a week spent with his sorry, bitchy ass. 

So Poison decides to ignore it. 

"C'mon guys, let's go meet some Juvee Halls," he says, standing up and dusting sand off his jeans. 

\-------------

The group of (sorry gotta count this real quick)...nine are all seated in a circle type thing like a bunch of kindergartners. Fedora Man speaks first: "Sorry, Pete couldn't make it. But I'm Patrick, and these are my partners Andy and Joe." 

_ And now, a short interlude for Show Pony to catch some people up on the trends: _

"Oh no, honey, that won't do. Y'all need some zone names," Show Pony says, shaking their head.

"Zone names?" Fedora Man says. 

"You don't know what zone names are? Do you live under a rock?" Party asks, feeling personally attacked. 

"Yeah, actually, they live under like a kilometer of rock," Jet mumbles underneath his breath. 

"Well, what's a zone name?"

"Names we use to differentiate ourselves from Bat Rats and City folks. I'm Party Poison, that's Fun Ghoul, Jet Star, Kobra Kid, Show Pony, and Dr. Death Defying."

"Dr. Death Defying?" Fedora Man gapes at Dr. D. "That's a sick name, man."

Doc looks kinda smug and murmurs thanks. 

"That Doctor trend hasn't been a trend since... wow, that was long ago," Kobra jokes.

"Shut it, kid," Dr. D says.

_ You can now continue to your regular program. _

"Why were you guys being chased by Dracs, anyways? And why don't you guys have a vehicle or something?" Ghoul asks. 

"We stopped at a Dead Pegasus in Zone 1, and they attacked us out of nowhere, started shooting at us. We had to leave quickly, had to leave the car there," the curly-haired dude, Joe, says.

"Huh. Dead Pegasus stops are normally neutral, I don't know why they'd start shooting," Poison muses.

"Maybe they recognized us. I dunno," Fedora Man shrugs. "Anyways, what are these plans of yours, Killjoys?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you! Yeah, you! Go comment 'THANK YOU, REMI' right now! Show them some love!  
> xxstella


	5. im only trilingual lmao ive run out of languages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and i oop-  
> s k s k s k
> 
> if you can't tell, these are absolutely silly, disregard these summaries lmao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told you the next one would be out soon  
> this one's kinda short but whatever  
> i started writing this like a week ago or something before i'd even finished the third chapter but ive been debating over the last few paragraphs lmao  
> also, say it with me, thank you remi for helping me choose the ending cos holy shit im so indecisive  
> enjoyyyy

Poison and Kobra are fighting loudly in a language Ghoul recognizes as the one they used in the Van with Dr. D about a week ago. He can hear them before he even turns off his bike (which is very impressive, he should add.) 

He walks inside cautiously, the air thick with tension as the two argue. He finds them in the Kitchen, chest-to-chest, Poison's anger as fiery as his hair while the taller of the two glowers in a scarily put together rage. 

Ghoul joins Jet at a booth, where he's been watching the spectacle play out. 

"What language is that?"

"Japanese."

Ghoul's sure there's a story there, but he doesn't pry. "They use it a lot?"

"Yeah. When it was just Pois and Kobra, they used to speak only Japanese so no one would understand them. And then I came along. They tried to teach me, but it doesn't really help when they speak the language you're trying to learn at the speed of light. Not to mention, Party isn't the most patient teacher." Jet shoots Ghoul a teasing grin. "So, we had to switch back to English."

Ghoul nods understandingly, and a silence falls over them. (Well, as silent as it can get with two people yelling at each other in the other room.)

Jet breaks it the quiet. "He was really hesitant about this alliance, y'know?"

Jet Star doesn't turn to look at him, but Ghoul still feels like the 'Joy is staring right into his soul. "I know," he says after a beat. 

All he gets in response is a nod, but Ghoul thinks that speaks plenty for itself. 

Suddenly, Poison storms out of the Kitchen, grabs his jacket and slams the door behind him as he leaves. 

"I'll go get him," Fun Ghoul stands up uncertainly, glancing down at Jet before he goes. 

Jet meets his eyes. "Go get 'em, tiger," he grins.

\-------------

Fun Ghoul clambers into the passenger seat of the Trans 'Am ungracefully. The car is parked outside of the Diner, sun shining down hard in classic midday Zone fashion. 

Party Poison's bent over the seat, head resting on the steering wheel, red hair falling in his face. He looks so tired that he almost looks his age.

"What do you want?" he mutters, his voice poisonous despite the low volume. 

Ghoul stares at him until he turns his head, face still smooshed against the wheel. His eyes are glassy and his nose red, but Ghoul ignores that.

Their eyes meet, and Fun Ghoul raises his eyebrows. There's a question there, but not even he knows what he's asking. 

"Want a smoke?" he says after a while.

"Yeah," Party breathes, sitting up and scrubbing his face. 

Ghoul hands over a cig and takes one for himself, lighting them in turn. He kicks back and places his feet against the dashboard, taking advantage of Poison being too exhausted to tell him off. 

"I didn't know you spoke Japanese."

"My mom taught us."

Ghoul nods. "What were you even fighting about?"

Poison sighs, "I don't know, man. We're just all so stressed right now, and I don't handle stress too well."

Ghoul files that information away (along with a sarcastic comment somewhere along the lines of 'never would've guessed.')

Poison flicks his cigarette out the window and into the sands. "Y'know what? Let's do something."

"Like what?"

The leader of the Killjoys shrugs, sending Ghoul his signature cocky smirk. "Something."

\-------------

The sun is setting by the time they make it back to the Diner, clothes and hands stained all different colors from the spray paint. Party tagging and painting old ruins is the happiest Ghoul's seen him in the roughly two weeks he's known the Killjoy. Among the color and the fumes- that's where Party Poison belongs.

Both men are still wearing silly grins, coming down from the exhilaration. Poison's hair is messy, framing his face like a halo.

And fuck...has Poison always been that pretty?

Ghoul's always wondered how someone can have such a rep in the Zones, but Poison has an innate ability to make everyone around him fall in love with him. 

"Hey, thank you for saving Kobra the other day, really," Poison says after a moment of silence, tapping the steering wheel. 

Ghoul snaps out of it, blushing and looking away before he gets caught staring at the Killjoy. "It's really not that big of a deal, people get saved all the time out here in the Zones."

"I know, but still. Thanks."

He can feel Poison's eyes on him, so he turns to stare right back. 

And maybe he's crazy, but maybe he's not the only one feeling something. Maybe he's not the only one that goes to lean in. 

But it doesn't really matter if it's just him or not, cos the sound of screeching tires reaches their ears.

"What the-"

They both turn to find a Youngblood car speeding towards them. It stops, and a short man (who is Ghoul kidding? Most of the Youngbloods are as vertically challenged as himself) that the Killjoys haven't actually met yet exits the passenger door. The setting sun is so bright Ghoul has to squint to see what he's waving around in the air.

A huge bag full of bomb parts is dangling from his hands.

"Hey, Killjoys! We got what you asked for! Ready to blow some shit up?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey dont hate me cos i love u ha ha haaa  
> i like reverted to my old writing style for a second there  
> sorry if this wasn't as funny as the last ones? are the previous ones funny? idek this one just felt more like how i wrote when i wrote that hamilton fic...  
> *deep breaths, yall*  
> okay either way leave a comment if you so desire cos i love to hear your guys' opinions!  
> xxstella


	6. that chapter where the plan gets explained ig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyy   
> sorry this is later than usual. im in a state of very-tired rn, even tho ive had a bunch of free time cos you know im in quarantine and our school is going online   
> thats fun  
> if you didnt know, i changed the ending to the last chapter. its just the last paragraph, but it does lead to this chapter so i would recommend reading it lol  
> also this is pretty long   
> also i dont think you understand when i say im indecisive. i rewrote the entire first half of this chapter like 3 times.  
> ok ill stop, enjoy reading!

The sun's fully set when everyone moves inside, so Poison has to bring out a bunch of candles to light up the Diner. His face looks scary illuminated by the flickering lights, his mouth set tight, his eyes absent. 

Ghoul watches as Kobra walks up to Poison, probably to apologize about fighting. He looks away. 

"Did you go spraypaint the ruins?" Jet asks from next to Ghoul, causing him to jump. Jet raises his eyebrows at his reaction, arms out in a harmless gesture. "You good, kid?"

"I'm the same age as you. Stop it with the 'kid.'" Ghoul glares up at the tall 'Joy.

"Sorry, sorry," Jet says, but his eyes are crinkled in amusement. 

"Yeah, we went spraypainting. How'd ya know?" Ghoul looks over at the Youngbloods as he speaks. They're in the corner, talking in a close circle. 

(Afro Man 0.2- Jet being 0.1- is taller than the other Youngbloods and it's funny to see until Ghoul remembers he's the same height as the tiny Juvees.)

Jet shrugs, leaning against the wall beside them. "That's what Poison does to blow off steam. 'M surprised he took you with him, though."

"Why's that?"

"That's a Poison-only thing, you know? Never takes us with him." 

Huh.

"Guess I'm special, then, huh?" Ghoul pulls out his good old cocky attitude, smirking up at Jet. But Jet's serious when he shrugs again and nods.

"I dunno, maybe you are."

Ghoul doesn't really like that answer, so he goes to help the Youngbloods with the bomb parts. 

(He pretends not to feel Poison's eyes on him as he crosses the Diner.)

"So, you're new," Ghoul says, taking the bag of parts from the new Youngblood. 

"Yeah, I'm Pete." the dude says, and Ghoul revels in the fact that he doesn't have to crane his neck to meet Pete's eyes. He sets the parts on one of the tables.

"You guys have zone names yet?" Ghoul asks as he lays the pieces out and inspects them. The others start moving to sit in the booths around the table. 

"Yeah! So, I'm going by Dr. Benzedrine, and Pete's going by Mr. Sandman," Dr. Benzedrine says, and Ghoul watches as Kobra, who's now seated next to Poison, stifles a laugh. He takes it that Kobra isn't much of a talker.

"You guys really liked the Doc's name, huh?" Jet asks, sliding in on the other side of Poison. 

"Yeah, that dude is cool as shit," Sandman says. The Youngbloods have taken up the booth opposite of the Killjoys, leaving Ghoul standing at the head of the table. 

"Whatever you say," Ghoul says, shaking his head. "Anyways, the plan." Ghoul grabs the map Jet drew for him and moves the bomb parts out of the way to lay it out. "So, this is a map of the Zones. These little stars are Drac Bases."

Everyone has to lean in and squint to make out the map in the dim lighting the candles provide. The stars are pretty spread out but stay in the first few Zones- two in Zone One, one in Zone Two, and one in Zone Three.

"Do we know what the Bases hold?" the redhead dude asks. He's sat in the corner, arms crossed and looking super intimidating, but his voice is surprisingly soft. 

"Cola's the only that's ever gone in and made it back out, but he doesn't remember much. They do experiments on Rats that they catch there, we think. And they have a bunch of intel on the Zones." Poison says. 

"Rats?" Benzedrine asks. Being a Snow Storm an' all, Ghoul's forgotten not everyone knows basic Zone lingo. 

"Uh- Zone people?" Poison's face scrunches up (in possibly the most adorable way.) "Y'all really don't know any of the slang? What do you guys call us?"

"Rebels," Benze says, eyebrows furrowed. Ghoul half expects him to take notes.

"I guess that works too." 

"Which of the Bases are we going to blow up?" Sandman leans forward to inspect the map further, bringing it back to everyone's attention. 

Ghoul shoots him a devilish grin, heart racing merely at the idea of the plan. "All of 'em. We ain't no scaredy-cats."

Joe lets out a low whistle, leaning back in his seat.

"Yeah," Ghoul says, as though the Juvee had said something.

"Yo, when you said some, I thought you meant like two." 

"Nah, man, go big or go home," Jet says. 

"We might need some more bomb parts then," Dr. Benze says, poking at the bags sitting on the table. 

"Actually, that should be enough combined with what I have. We'll just have 4 big bombs, one for each base." Ghoul says.

"Do we need to pay you guys for this?" Jet asks. (There's a running theme of Jet Star being the logical-thinking one, Ghoul's noticed)

The Youngbloods share a look before Sandman shakes his head. "No need. We want Better Living gone just as much as y'all do." 

Poison hums. "Then, let's fucking do this."

\-------------

The Youngbloods and Ghoul leave shortly after the meeting. The Youngbloods were going to sleep over at Ghoul's HQ cos it actually had space, and it's kind of pointless for them to go back to the Lobby.

Poison doesn't know what to do with himself. He's currently laying on the mattress in the Room, sketching in an old, old sketchbook, trying not to think. (Show Pony calls it 'semi-meditation,' but Poison calls it drawing, as a reasonable person would.) 

Kobra flops down beside him, and then Jet, the Killjoys splayed across their shitty bed, trying to fit. The younger of the Venom Brothers nudges Poison's shoulder. "What's with you and Ghoul, dude?"

Poison doesn't look up from his sketchbook. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb. You took him to the ruins to go  _ spraypainting _ ," Jet says, looking over from where he's laid on his back, afro smooshed flat against the pillow. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Poison says, shaking his head. Kobra sighs and nudges Poison again. Party lets himself fall, and Jet collects him in his arms. 

"C'mon, don't bullshit us." 

Poison shrugs, not meeting anyone's eyes. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Wait- you like him, don't you?" Jet asks, gasping lightly.

"Wha-" Poison turns to face Jet, " _ No,  _ I don't."

"Destroya, he does!"

"Guys, I don't have a crush on Ghoul, you're delusional." 

Jet props himself up with an arm to stage whisper to Kobra: "He only uses big words when he's in loooove."

"He's so pastel it hurts," Kobra whispers back. He reaches over to ruffle Poison's hair, to which Poison growls. 

"Could you guys shut up? I don't like him, 'kay? That's that."

"Hey, we're just joking," Jet flops back down, curling around Party. Kobra scooches over so he can join in.

"Whatever."

They sit in silence for a minute or two until Poison breaks. "Okay, fine, we almost kissed or whatever."

"Dude! And you say you don't like him!"

Poison sits up, hands flailing wildly with his words. "I don't want him to like me, though! Cos, like, what if I get hurt? Or what if he realizes how dumb I am? I don't like him more than a passing crush right now, but I don't want that to evolve into something more permanent, y'know?" 

"Yeah," the other two sigh, and then silence envelops the Killjoys, settling softly on their shoulders. 

"Y'know, not everyone's gonna hurt you, right?"

"Everyone gets fucked over in the end, Jet. It's gonna hurt because it matters, or whatever the quote is," Poison huffs.

"Yeah, but what if it's worth it?" Kid asks.

Does it pay off sometimes? No- because it didn't the last times, did it?

It really didn't.

But Poison shuts up and lays back down.

"Just talk to him," Jet suggests softly.

"Sure."

\-------------

Show Pony laughs when Party tells him. Poison's sitting in the Trans 'Am, portable radio tuned to the Doc's frequency so he can talk to his friend. The sun is just starting to climb the sky, Poison's coffee still warm. 

And, look, he wasn't planning on telling Pony that maybe-kinda-sorta likes Ghoul. It just slipped out.

And now they're in hysterics. "Dude, I fucking told you! I  _ knew  _ it. I was like, 'Pois, you're gonna fall, and you're gonna fall hard,' and did you listen? No!"

"You never said  _ I  _ was gonna like 'im. Also, I'm not in love with him, okay? Don't make it sound like I am. It's just a dumb crush that'll pass in no time."

"Whatever you say, hun."

"Shut  _ up,  _ Pony."

"Look, I actually need you to do a run for me down in Zone 5, please?"

Poison's mind automatically reminds him that Zone 5 is where Ghoul's HQ is, and he wants to hit himself.

"Pwetty, pwetty pwease, Party? We gotta get some info from a dude about the next few Drac raids. Can't say it over the radio. And I just thought since you guys are closer to Zone 5 than us, you could go and get it for me? Please?"

Party almost refuses, and then Pony adds on something about paying back for that one time that-

Actually, let's not get into that.

Either way, that's how Poison ends up driving down to the Dead Pegasus that's like barely over a kilometer away from Ghoul's HQ. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if there were any mistakes! ive redone it a lot and im really tired so theres that.  
> ummm thank you remi for putting up with me screaming at you (from a meter away, of course, social distancing amirite)  
> and thank you guys for commenting, leaving kudos, and reading! you guys are so sweet i love yall
> 
> xxstella


	7. oop-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> poisons reckless, what can i say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo  
> this chapter is long, yall  
> and i mean long, we're talking 2432 words  
> so i mean fuck yeah  
> i cant remember when i updated last but the next chapter is really gonna be soon cos its basically completely written already   
> enjoy! dont hate me!

Dead Pegasus stations are the only gas stations in the Zones. Because of this, they're also Neutral territory, meaning Crows, Dracs, and Rats have to be at peace. No fighting, no physical confrontation of any kind. 

So Poison isn't surprised when he sees two all-white Trans 'Ams in the almost empty parking lot. Doesn't mean he likes it, though. 

Poison locks up the 'Am and heads inside, shimmying and pulling up his pants. The drive here had taken about an hour, so the time's probably around 11:00, so there aren't many people at the stop. He pushes through the door to the inside. 

Gas stops in the Zones are an odd sight with their rows of shelving devoid of products. Poison can hardly imagine what it would be like to have so much stuff at your constant disposal. The only real products the stops have is Power Pup behind the counter, and the cheap packs of cigarettes and even cheaper alcohol.

Poison scans the room quickly. The man at the counter is fast asleep, head resting in his folded arms, black hair a mess, obscuring his face from view. 

The Exterminators are with their Dracs in one of the corners, by the run-down coffee machine. 

And there, in the other corner, is the chick with the intel. Just as Pony had said, orange hair, pale, pale skin (rare in the Zones), reasonably tall. 

Poison keeps a wary eye on the BL workers as he makes his way over. The girl's reading a magazine- or at least she's pretending to. 

"Is that the newest issue?" Poison asks, nodding at the zine. 

She looks up, eye wide. Poison watches as she looks him up and down. He's used to that- he got his reputation from somewhere, right? The girl flushes and stutters out a response. 

"Oh, uh, yeah. I already read it, you can have it," she recites, holding it out. 

"Oh, really? Thanks, dude." Poison takes the magazine and starts walking over to the counter to get some cigs (and cover up the code.)

Poison glances over at the Scarecrows in the corner and sees them watching him. He can feel the panicked thoughts coming on, but he reminds himself that they can't hurt him, this is Neutral grounds. 

_ Neutral grounds, Neutral grounds. _

Poison pokes the cashier, leafing through the magazine in his hands to try and fake nonchalance. 

_ Neutral grounds. _

The Exterminators stalk closer, taking sips out of the coffee cups in unison. (Creepy motherfuckers, Crows are.)

Poison looks over at the cashier, who's still snoring away.

_ Why the fuck is this dude sleeping on the job anyway?  _

The stress of the Masks being so close while he holds encoded intel is really starting to get to him. And stress plus annoyance doesn't really mix well with Poison if you can remember from chapter five. 

_ It's Neutral grounds, you're fine.  _

"Hey, kid, wake up." Poison says, anger edging into his tone. The Crows get in line behind him.

"Is he sleeping?" one of them says, tsking their tongue. Poison stiffens and doesn't reply. 

Poison slaps his magazine on the counter, and the cashier's head snaps up in surprise. 

And really, Poison should've fucking guessed who it'd be. 

Ghoul's eyes widen when he sees Poison standing in front of him, as though he can't believe it. 

This is really just Poison's luck. He takes in Ghoul's messy black hair, his large under-eye bags, his lips parted in surprise. (Poison kinda wants to kis- nope, nope, back the fuck up and shut it.) For a second, he feels ready to apologize, to ask why Ghoul's running on so little sleep. 

But he can't do that, can he?

He glares the dude down and grabs one of the cigarette packs from the rack next to the register. "Don't sleep on your job, dumbass."

He turns to leave, slipping the pack into his jacket and the magazine up inside his sleeve. And he's going to make it out the door, and get in his car and leave, and nobody's gonna stop him (because it's  _ Neutral grounds). _

"Yo, Poison, you have to pay for that!"

"I'll pay you back later," Poison forces himself to turn around and send a smirk Ghoul's way. He has a reputation to uphold, after all.

"Asshole!" Ghoul shouts, but Poison doesn't care, because now Poison's outside.

The moment he's out, he takes a moment to reassess, calm down. Seeing Ghoul's face was the cherry on top of his messy emotions, and now he really needs an outlet. 

A few years ago, he'd go to a bar to cool down, get wasted, and fuck some random Zone Rat. Now, he'd really love to go paint some ruins. 

But he can't really do either of those things right now.

His eyes land on the white Trans 'Ams parked in the far side of the parking lot. 

Fucking fuck, this is not a good idea. 

Party turns back around to sneak a look inside the stop. The Crows start towards the exit, but the chick who gave Poison the zine comes up behind them, looking like she's starting a conversation. Poison barely catches the wink she sends his way before he makes his way to the cars. 

The job is quick- he keys the car doors, from trunk to hood.

Is this way against the rules? Yes. Is it going to make Fun Ghoul mad? Also yes.

But are either of those things cons? Absolutely not.

(Is Poison denying his feelings for Ghoul and covering them up with anger? Hahaha. 

Destroya, help him.)

Poison finishes and stands, ready to run back to the safety of his own 'Am, only to find himself face-to-face with the Mask of a Crow.

Shit.

"Oh, hey, bud! What is  _ up _ !?" Poison says, a fake smile on his lips. "Hey, I was just about to leave, so if you could just-"

Poison's interrupted by a fist to the mouth, and he drops the act, body going into fight mode. "Fucker," he mutters as he takes a step back. He presses a hand to his lips and takes in the situation. 

All four of the BL workers are crowded around him in a semi-circle, trapping him against their cars. The Masks stare at him, unmoving, the white of their suits blinding in the sun. Poison wonders what they really look like. He thinks maybe they're frowning right now.

It isn't smart to fight them. It's four on one. 

Poison's not really known for the smartest decisions, though.

The next thing he knows, and he's throwing punches at a fully trained Exterminator who has another Crow and two Dracs on their side like a fucking dumbass. It doesn't take long before he's shoved to the ground, elbows scraping against the concrete. 

His arms sting vaguely in protest, but the adrenaline rushing through Poison's veins stops him from feeling the full pain. 

He kicks out the Crow's leg and climbs on top of them, punching at their face until he's tossed to the side. He's way fucking outmatched. The other Crow leans over him, blocking the sun from view until Poison can only see the Mask looming above him. 

Blow after blow hits his face as he scrambles to find purchase to hit back when: "What in the name of Witch? Absolutely not, this is Neutral ground!" 

Two blaster shots sound through the air, and the BL workers scatter. 

"Fucking hell," Poison turns to spit some blood out onto the cracked concrete of the parking lot and pushes himself up.  _ Fuck, _ his elbows really hurt. He brings a hand to his face where his skin stings right above his eyebrow and winces when it comes back red.

"What the fuck, Poison?" Ghoul says, tucking his blaster back into his holster as he makes his way over. 

His ribs might be bruised too. That's no fun. 

Poison doesn't look at Ghoul, instead opting to glare at the Masks as they load into the cars and drive away. He haltingly treks back over to his own 'Am, Ghoul on his heels.

"You  _ know  _ that's against the rules, why would you do that?"

Poison just shrugs and enters his car. He sees the girl from earlier leave the shop and waves at her. 

"Poison," Ghoul leans through the open passenger window, and Poison curses the fact that it's still broken. " _ Poison, _ "

"Yeah, I know what my name is."

Ghoul opens the door to the 'Am and slides into the seat (deja vu), undeterred by Poison's attitude. 

"Get out of my car, Ghoul," Poison grits out. Now he's really starting to get mad. 

Fun Ghoul ignores him still: "Dude, you're pretty badly hurt."

"I'm  _ fine, _ " Poison insists. He raises his arm, holding back a growl at the pain shooting through it from the strawberries on his elbows, and starts the car. 

"Do you have a First Aid kit or something?" Ghoul asks, fumbling through the glove compartment and then under the seat. 

"I live with  _ Jet Star _ , of course, I have a fucking First Aid kit," Poison grumbles. Ghoul comes up, waving the small white box in the air. 

"C'mon, lemme see your arms," the small bombmaker reaches out to take Poison's arm, but the redhead snatches it away. 

"Just give me the kit, I can do it myself."

"Poison, don't be like that, gimme your arm-"

"Be like what? It's the Zones, we're not friends, why the fuck should I let you dress my wounds?" Poison snaps, going to take the box from Ghoul, but he pulls it away. Poison looks up to see the Rat's dumbfounded and hurt expression and realizes what he had said. He feels himself soften (because he's weak, at least for Ghoul.) "I- Ghoul, I didn't mean that."

"Give me your arm, Poison," Ghoul says, all business-like.

"Ghoul-"

"Arm," Ghoul holds out a hand expectantly, and Poison lets him take his arm to fix up his elbows.

Ghoul's obviously done up wounds before, probably on himself. He finishes with the elbows and then moves on to the cut above Poison's eyebrow. He has to crawl over onto the center console to reach it, getting real close to Party.

Poison finds it extremely hard to concentrate on anything but the way Ghoul's hand holds onto his shoulder to steady himself. Or the way he can feel Ghoul's breath fan against his face. Or the color of Ghoul's eyes. Or the way Ghoul's tongue sticks out of his mouth when he concentrates. 

In other words, Poison's finding it really hard to focus on anything but Ghoul in such close proximity. 

So the Killjoy, needless to say, is a bit scatterbrained by the time Ghoul finishes up and meets his eyes.

And honestly, fuck it.

The next thing Poison knows, and he's kissing Ghoul, needy and messy (and so, so stupid.) He tugs Ghoul into his lap, and he quickly complies, hands in Poison's red hair and on his chest and waist. It takes Ghoul biting down on Poison's bottom lip for him to snap the fuck out of it.

"Shit, fuck, Ghoul,  _ Ghoul, _ " Poison pushes Ghoul off him as much as he can in the cramped front seat of the 'Am. "We can't, we can't-"

" _ Why _ ?" Ghoul asks softly, eyebrows screwed and eyes pleading. "Why not?"

"Because you don't like me, Ghoul."

"I'm pretty sure I do, Poison," Poison can see impatience slip into Ghoul's expression.

And this hurts, yeah. This hurts. Poison just wants to keep kissing Ghoul, but he  _ can't. _

"No, you don't! You like the idea of me. You idolize me. Pretty Party Poison, leader of the Killjoys, you can find him either getting high or getting off. Right?" 

Ghoul's shaking his head, but Poison continues. "I'm annoying, and I'm an asshole- you just- I was an asshole to you like 2 minutes ago!"

"You're not annoying, Poison, I-"

"Get off me, Ghoul," Poison cuts him off. Ghoul's face goes from arguing to emotionless in a second, mouth set straight and eyes narrowed. 

"Fine," Ghoul sits back the passenger seat. He doesn't leave the car, and Poison doesn't ask him to. (What'd he say? Weak.)

Poison lets out a low sigh and turns on the radio, tuning it to Pony's frequency.

"Pony?" he rubs a hand along the side of his face and grabs the magazine from where he dropped it on the dashboard. 

"Yeah, babes?" Pony's voice crackles through the radio speakers.

"Got the magazine for you. D'ya want me to drop it off today or tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow's fine. Hey, do me a favor, would'ya?" 

"What, another favor?" Poison asks, lips upturning into a tiny smile.

"You owe for that one time yo-"

"We still don't need to talk about it," Poison cuts him off, causing Pony to snort. Ghoul glances over, amused, but Poison looks away as soon as their eyes meet. 

"Anyways, flip to page 4, yeah? There's word going around that there might be a Drac raid in Zone 4 soon."

Poison files that information away. The Killjoys'll have to find some temporary place to stay for a while until Zone 4 clears out.

"What am I looking for, Pony?" Poison flips to the page. It's just some old article about a sport. 

"Is anything circled?"

"Uh, yeah, 9 and 10."

There's a pause and then: "Fuck."

"What? Pony, what?"

"Today's the 10th of September," Pony says. 

"What does that have to do with-" Poison looks back at the numbers, and it clicks. " _ Shit." _

"What? What's wrong?" Ghoul asks as the anxiety starts to settle in Poison. "Poison, what's wrong?"

But Poison can't speak. He thinks maybe Pony's explaining to Ghoul.

Kobra and Jet could be in a Drac base by now.

They could be dead by now. 

He snaps out of it. "What time- what time is it, Pony?" he presses down on the gas hard, heading home as fast as he can.

"Uh, around noon, hun. That's a bit early for a Drac raid, right?"

Poison doesn't know. Poison can't  _ think. _

"It takes about an hour to get to the Diner from here, so maybe not too early," Ghoul says.

Fuck.  _ Fuck. _

"Pony, I'm going to try and radio the Diner, okay?" Ghoul tunes to Diner's frequency. "Poison, it's going to be alright."

"They could be in a Drac base right now." And it'd be all Poison's fault. If he hadn't left today, if he hadn't keyed the cars, if he hadn't talked with Ghoul, then they'd be okay.

Ghoul doesn't answer. "Jet? Kobra?" he says into the radio. 

The radio doesn't answer either. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey lovess  
> sorry, really, um dont hate me   
> expect the next chapter pretty soon!  
> aight byeeeee  
> xxstella


	8. poisons kinda scary ngl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck yeah double update  
> was gonna say something about how its technically still the same day and then i remembered that most of you guys probably live in america and its like noon or something there (why does america have multiple time zones? why is america so *big*?? the country i live in can apparently fit inside of texas multiple times. whats it like living in a country where you cant drive out of a state in less than a day?)  
> umm also hows corona doin  
> im impossibly tired rn wtf   
> enjoyyyyy

The Diner is empty when they make it back at around 12:40 (Poison drove fast enough that he cut the trip short by 20 minutes. Needless to say, Ghoul's a bit rattled when they reach solid ground.)

Fun Ghoul watches as Poison's face falls to complete misery when he realizes his crew isn't there. It feels like someone took Ghoul's heart out of his chest and stomped on it, then ran over it and maybe shot it with a ray gun a few times.

Poison checks all the rooms at least three times- not that there are many places to hide- before he crumbles in a booth. Ghoul sits across from him carefully, not making a sound.

"They're gone," Poison whispers hoarsely. His knees are pulled up to his chest, arms encircling them. He looks up at Ghoul, tears streaming down his face and eyes impossibly sad.

Ghoul can't help it- he scoots over and collects Party in his arms. Poison turns gratefully into the embrace, circling his arms around Ghoul's middle and pressing his face into Ghoul's chest. The position is a bit uncomfortable in an old diner booth, but Ghoul couldn't care less. 

"They're gone," Poison repeats. 

"I know," Ghoul rocks Party softly, not really knowing what to do. "I know."

They sit like that until Poison's crying slows down. He sits up, scrubbing at his face.

"We'll get them back," Ghoul says, determined. Poison lets out a humorless laugh. 

"Did you think we wouldn't?"

\-------------

The sun's just beginning to set when they arrive at Tommy's bar out in Zone 2. The bar is Neutral grounds, but the only Crows that typically come are the ones that either give zero fucks or want some fucks. 

Party Poison is out of the car before it even stops, storming off to the bar, and slamming the doors open in true Party fashion. Ghoul has to run to keep up. 

Poison's mood swings are incredibly scary.

Almost nobody looks up to see who had come in, despite Poison's dramatic entrance (everyone makes dramatic entrances in the Zones, after all.) 

"We have to be careful, yeah? Think with your head, not your heart?" Ghoul tries in an attempt to talk some logic into Poison, but when he looks up, Party's gone. "Party?"

Panic fills him as he looks around for any sign of red hair. Where the fuck...?

Ah. 

Ghoul finds the leader of the Killjoys sitting down next to a Crow sat at the bar. The Crow looks positively plastered, slumped over an empty glass. Utterly unprepared for Pretty Party Poison to swoop down like a bird to its prey, eyes all half-lidded, body leaned in close. 

Ghoul watches from afar, teeth grit. He doesn't doubt that Party is safe- he knows the redhead can handle himself just fine- but he still doesn't like the way Poison goes straight to seduction as the answer. (He's also kinda jealous, but we're not gonna talk about it.)

Ghoul really doesn't doubt that Party's flirted and seduced many a person- that's a pretty big part of his whole reputation. And sure enough, less than a minute later and Party's leading the drunk Crow out the back door. He doesn't even look back to make sure Ghoul follows.

"Fucking hell." Ghoul weaves through the blue-lined crowd, exiting after Poison to the back of the run-down bar.

The sun casts orange and red light across the sands, and if something terrible wasn't about to go down, Ghoul might've paused to admire it. 

Poison stands over the Crow in all of his enraged glory. The poor Mask is on the ground by the broken bottles and trash, propped up against the bar's wall. 

"Kobra Kid and Jet Star. Where are they?" Poison spits out, flirtatious demeanor long gone. 

The poor Crow cowers against the piss-stained wall. "Who?"

Party growls low in his throat (okay, that should be illegal) and rolls his eyes. "Michael Way and Ray Toro.  _ Where? _ " 

Holy shit...Poison and Kobra were  _ Ways? _ They were related to the  _ Director.  _

When the Crow doesn't answer, Poison picks him up by the front of his shirt, pressing him against the building. "Listen here, asshole. You tell me where they are, and maybe you'll live to see another fucking day." 

The Crow's eyes are wide and frantic. "Zone 2," he chokes out, "East Base."

"Level." not a question, an order.

"I-I don't know, I don't have the clearance." 

The man yelps as Poison shoves him against the wall again before stepping back. That's not the answer he wanted, and his hand twitches towards his holster. 

Ghoul darts forward, grabbing Poison's arm. "Party! That's all your gonna get. Leave the poor man alone." 

Poison turns to look at Ghoul for a millisecond, and the glare of pure disgust is enough to make him drop Party's arm. Poison turns on his heel sharply, stomping through the sand towards the Trans 'Am. 

Ghoul sends one last pitying look at the Crow before hurrying after the angry Killjoy.

Except, he's not angry, as Ghoul finds out. The redhead is sat in the driver's seat of the 'Am, tears running streaks down his grimy face. This is the most Ghoul's seen Poison cry (not to mention the only times he's seen Poison cry), and it's all been in a matter of about 3 hours. 

"Hey, hey, whoa," Ghoul sits on top of the console between the two front seats, trying to get closer to Poison. 

"Get the fuck away from me," Poison growls, voice breaking. When Ghoul doesn't budge, Poison turns in his seat and stares at him. "Go!"

Ghoul shakes his head. "No."

"Yes! It's all your fucking fault! They're probably getting fucking  _ experimented  _ on in BL labs, and it wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you and your stupid fucking ideas!" Poison shoves at Ghoul's chest as he yells.

There's no logic in that. The Drac raids would've happened even if Ghoul hadn't struck up an alliance with the Killjoys. Still, Ghoul accepts the blame, sensing fighting Poison would not help the situation. "Yeah, I know," he says.

"Yeah, you fucking should! All you do is...is fuck shit up!" 

Ghoul attempts to reach out and wipe away Poison's tears with a tissue, trying to calm him down.

Keyword: attempts.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Poison's voice is high, panicked, and he presses himself against the car door, slapping away Ghoul's hand. 

"Okay, okay, I'm not gonna touch you." 

Ghoul sits back, reevaluates. 

Poison was a different kind of upset earlier in the Diner. Ghoul had hugged him and let him cry then, but now Poison's loss is twisting into anger.

Ghoul thinks maybe that's a defense mechanism.

But how do you help someone that's in hysterical fury? 

What would Jet do? 

Be real. Jet seemed like a real kind of guy the few times Ghoul really talked to him. 

"Okay, Poison, you're being stupid. You got the information we needed, there's nothing else you can do. I'm sorry your crew is stuck in a BL base, but that's not my fucking fault! Don't take my anger out on me, I did jack shit. So you need to calm the fuck down so we can work towards getting them out."

The leader of the Killjoys recoils like he's been burned. His face goes from affronted to vulnerable and scared to emotionless in a matter of seconds. 

He reaches out and snatches the tissue from Ghoul's hands, rubbing his face clean.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

Poison glares at him. " _ Yeah." _

"Alrighty then. Now you gonna tell me about the fact that you're a Way?"

Poison lets out a low chuckle and starts the car. Ghoul sends him a grin to show he's joking and slides into the passenger seat. "That's a story for a whole other fucking time, man. Let's just get the fuck out of here."

"Sounds good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was one of those chapters i wrote in advance cos i had a really strong idea in my head so if anyone seems kinda ooc thats why  
> i think i also wrote it right after reading a killthedj update cos my writing is pretty easily influenced by others styles and this isnt really how id normally write ghoul  
> but idk man  
> im really fucking tired  
> what time is it where you live lmao  
> OH YEAH ALSO i used their mcr names cos thats like easier than naming them with other, normal names. but theyre not mcr i just needed the names lol.
> 
> good night im going to sleep  
> xxstella


	9. doctor ds got an announcement for ya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii  
> guys im really done with this title its absolute crap it was gonna be temporary but i cant think of anything better to call it so please if you have any ideas comment them!  
> also we're finally on easter break so we'll see if i get any extra work out.

_ Alright, you crash queens, motorbabies, Rats and anythin' in between, listen up and listen close. In the last raid, down in Fourth, some of our best rebels were taken by the pigs, and our redhead beauty, I know you know who I'm talking about, is seeking revenge. If you feel like taking over a Base and maybe blowin' it up too, be at the station at sunrise.  _

_ Some Juvee Halls'll be there too, and if I see any fighting, we'll leave you in the Base when we put it up in flames.  _

_ This is just the beginning, Rats. Stay tuned and keep running.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter'll be out in a sec lol
> 
> xxstella


	10. that one star wars meme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo !!! title ideas in the comments would be appreciated!!  
> also I had to rewrite this chapter four times lmao I'm so done with reading it so if there are any mistakes or the writing is kinda crappy that would be why  
> I would like to say expect the next chapter to come out kinda soon but idk I don't even trust that  
> enjoy!

Poison honestly hadn't expected many people to show up. Crews rarely work with each other- what was in it for them? Rats are selfish creatures. What do they benefit from breaking some other team out of a Base, putting their own life at risk in doing so?

Not much, if anything.

But maybe it's because it's the Killjoys who got kidnapped or cos some people are just particularly reckless, but three crews show, plus some stragglers with a death wish. 

Poison's watching through the small window in the Van, but none of them can see him. Doc is staring at him from the corner, silent, but Poison knows he'll be speaking soon enough.

Ghoul's outside with them, looking absolutely miserable, and Poison almost invites him inside the Van with him. Except he needs some time to think. 

These are the people that are gonna help Poison get his brother and best friend back.

He misses his crew, and he saw them last just yesterday. Maybe knowing that wherever they are, they aren't safe makes it feel longer. Perhaps simply knowing they're gone is enough to make a day seem like a year.

Or Poison misses them just because he misses them.

He focuses back on the crews outside. The early morning sun frames their backs as it climbs up behind the dunes. They don't look half bad, honestly. They've all come with their own bikes or 'Ams, and some have bags on their backs. All of them have blasters in holsters around their waist or thighs. They're all around Poison's age, so none of them are real kids, like Kobra, which makes him feel a bit better about dragging them somewhere to save his own crew. 

And he does feel kinda bad, really. They're here to break some strangers out of a Drac Base. Poison half takes back what he said about Rats being selfish.

His thoughts are interrupted by Doc's rough voice. "Y'know, I always said you could start a riot with a single breath."

Poison looks over at him, and his gaze softens. He and the Doc aren't that close, but Dr. D was still the one who picked him up and dusted him off after...

Well, after everything.

"Too bad Rats are too lazy to actually start a revolution," he says, but he means thank you.

"Maybe times are changing, Poison."

Poison looks back out the windows and sees the silhouette of the Youngblood's car approaching steadily. "Maybe."

He swings the Van door open, and immediately all eyes are on him. Their expressions give his ego a massive fucking boost. Half-awe, half-fear. Fitting.

He stands on the top step, hands on his hips, and squints against the sun to stare at them all. The day is colder than he thought, but he doesn't let his discomfort show. "Mornin."

He jumps down the rest of the stairs and makes his way around the crews, taking them in but mainly installing some sort of fear. 

Crew number one looks like a bunch of Microchips, the kind of people Kobra would like. Two girls who look like the muscle of the group and a nerdy-looking dude. 

The next group was probably thrown together purely out of necessity. They're an odd bunch- a shorter-than-Ghoul girl, a completely emo person, and some dude who looks like he's had too much cactus juice. 

The last crew looks like the kind of people Poison had expected to show up- the ones who've been out in the sun too long, the kinda person Poison used to be. High all the time, on Zone weed, or maybe something worse. 

The stragglers don't look as prepared, but that's to be expected. At least everyone has blasters. 

Poison finishes his rounds and returns to the top step, pretty pleased. Three crews plus some are way better than a lonely Killjoy and a bombmaker. 

He gestures for Ghoul to join him. 

It takes a moment for Ghoul to process the hand motion as 'get up here you huge dumbass,' and then he's moving towards the stairs. There's no room to also stand on the steps, so he stands next to them, and Poison uses his head as a hand rest (not elbow rest, mind you, Ghoul barely reaches eye level with Poison ribs in this position).

"So, Runners. I am Party Poison, but you already know that. This," Poison shakes Ghoul's head from side to side, moving his body with it until Ghoul swats him off. "This is Fun Ghoul, our bomb expert. We're here to break the rest of the Killjoys out of a Drac Base and blow it up while we're at it. If you thought this was somethin' else, sorry, you know the exit. If you're not okay with the possibility of death, you should probably leave too."

By this time, the Youngbloods turn and come to a stop about a meter away, grabbing everyone's attention. The Juvee Halls spill out of the car doors, all black clothing and short stature, and definitely  _ not  _ Zone Rats. 

"Oh, and we're working with Juvee Halls." the Rats grumble but don't say anything too nasty too loud, so Poison gestures for the Youngbloods to join him by the stairs. 

"Hey man, you doin' okay?" Fedora Man asks under his breath.

Poison looks down at him and takes in his genuine expression. "Sure," he says, instead of no.

"So, the plan. Ghoul?" Poison steps off the stairs so Ghoul can replace his position. He holds out a hand to help him up, but Ghoul doesn't take it.

"Whoa, is this what being tall is like? I could get used to this," Ghoul says, and a laugh (no matter how fake it is) ripples across the crowd. "You Juvees have the plans?" 

The Youngbloods seem to have everything down in the Lobby. People down there know it all- apparently, it wasn't even that hard to find a Juvee who had the architectural plans of the Bases. 

Sandman hands over a few blueprints, which Ghoul takes happily. "The Base we're infiltrating is in 2nd, so in this Zone, the East Base. It's about 30 minutes from here, tops." Ghoul flips through the papers before hopping back down to draw a shitty outline of how the Base is laid out in the sand. "We don't actually know what floor Jet and Kobra are on. Basically, we'll have a group of the best shots to go in first and shoot at any Mask they see, and then we'll have a second group go in to find Jet and Kobra. Just in case the Dracs have some kind of alarm system, we're gonna need a few people outside to be on the lookout."

Ghoul straightens and pauses to think for a second. "Oh, and if you find anything that looks important or that you think could help us, take it with you. Paper, files, hard drives, whatever. We don't know what kind of Base this is, so grab anything. It looks like maybe an archive of some sort, but it's out here in the Zones, so I wouldn't expect any actual rebels to be there." Ghoul's eyebrows furrow, and he looks back at Poison. "Actually, I'm not sure why they would need Kobra and Jet there anyways..."

Ghoul's eyes widen, and some emotions flash across his face that Poison doesn't have time to decipher before he turns back to the other Rats. "Right, you guys figure out who goes in what group, and, uh, Sandy dude is in charge. I gotta talk to Poison real quick, and we'll be right back."

Ghoul grabs Poison's arm and drags him back into the Van. 

"The fuck? What's wrong, Ghoul?" 

Ghoul double checks that the door of the tiny Van is closed before turning quickly to look up at Poison. "Oh- hi, Doc. Also, it's a fucking trap. It's a trap. Why would they have Kobra and Jet in an archive in the middle of the Zones?"

Poison stares at Ghoul for a second, then out the tiny window at the Rats, then back to Ghoul. "Well, fuck."

" _ Yeah.  _ What do we do, call it off?"

No, no, they can't call it off. What about Jet and Kobra? This could be the only way to get them back. 

"No."

Ghoul blinks hard. "No?"

"We're getting Jet and Kobra back. They don't know about the extra people on our side. They're not prepared for that many people. We can do this. And we're going to do this," Poison says, determined to get his crew out. 

Ghoul thinks about it for a second, looking out of the window before he shakes his head and lets out a deep breath. "The things I do for you. Okay. Let's do this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title ideas!! lmao sorry for being annoying about that  
> have a good easter (if you celebrate it!) and thanks for reading!
> 
> xxstella


	11. that star wars meme part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoooo  
> its been way too long  
> a month?????? d u d e   
> writers block was hitting hard and then my writing got even more inconsistent than it already is so   
> yeah  
> A HUGE THANKS TO TIA AND REMI FOR JUST. LISTENING TO ME WHINE ABOUT MY WRITING THEYRE SO AMAZING I LOVE THEM GO SCREAM THANKS IN THE COMMENTS  
> sorry if this is kinda shit? i half assed the editing lol   
> but I hope you guys enjoyyyy (and pls don't kill me)

Ghoul looks out the frame where the passenger window of the Killjoys' 'Am used to be. He contemplates asking about the story behind that to distract Poison at least a bit, but he thinks if he tries talking, the redhead might punch him. He's been insanely tense since they left the Van. Not that Ghoul doesn't get why, but the silence is deafening. 

The rebels park a few minutes out from the Base so they won't be seen coming. They split into their groups and begin the walk- Ghoul goes in the outside group and Poison on the shooting team (Poison is known as the best shot of the Zones, and for a good reason). Benzedrine and the other Youngbloods are in the group that goes in behind the shooters.

The Base is a squat white building surrounded by sand dunes, far away from the Runaway Mile. The levels go farther down under the ground then what you see. That's where they think Jet and Kobra are. 

Ghoul stares at the shape of the building in the distance for a long second, and all he can think of is how fucking dumb this is.

It's a trap, and he knows it, but none of these poor Rats do. They could all die, and it'll be because Poison is irrational, and Ghoul is too weak to turn down his stupid stubbornness. 

Ghoul turns to look at Poison, and he looks back. Poison seems to get it and says something to a rebel in his group before falling back. Benzedrine shoots them a confused look from the front, where he's walking with the rest of his crew. Ghoul just shakes his head at him before matching Poison's pace at the back. They walk together in silence for a bit.

"You can't talk me out of this, Ghoul. I need them back, okay?" Poison doesn't look at him as he says it, but Ghoul can hear his desperation. And maybe it makes a little bit more sense.

Jet and Kobra _are_ all Poison has. 

"Okay," Ghoul inhales sharply, trying to shoo away the doubtful thoughts. The worst-case scenario is that Jet and Kobra aren't there, but the Base still gets blown up, and a bunch of Dracs still get dead. "Okay. We'll get them. It'll be okay."

Poison looks down at Ghoul, his hazel eyes dancing across his face as though he's looking for something. Ghoul reaches out and squeezes Poison's hand before he loses the confidence to and jogs to catch up with his group.

They make it to the dunes enclosing around the Base not too long later. Two Dracs stand guard at the door, but that's it in terms of guards. Most of the Dracs must be inside.

Unfortunately, blasters aren't exactly the best long-range guns, so they can't just shoot the Masks. The rebels settle against the sands so that they aren't visible, and Ghoul takes out one of his homemade grenades. He chucks it to the other side of the dip that the dunes create.

The explosion is pretty small, just enough to drag the Dracs away from their posts. 

Poison and one of the stragglers slide down the sands and shoot at the Dracs. They're down in seconds.

The rest of the rebels join them, splitting back into their groups. Poison leads the shooting team into the Base while Ghoul's group takes up positions around the building. They're each armed with a grenade similar to the one from earlier and their blasters. 

The inside teams are carrying three bigger, timed bombs Ghoul had made. The plan is to put them on different floors, grab whatever intel they can find, rescue the Killjoys, and get the hell out and run. The timer is set for 30 minutes, so they have to work fast. 

It doesn't take too long before screams and blaster shots ring out from the building. Ghoul finds himself hoping that none of the screams are coming from a rebel (or worse, Poison).

He looks out across the desert, keeping an eye open for any Dracs. Everything in him is telling him to run, to get the hell out. Who willingly walks into a trap?

But he knows that he can't leave Poison.

The Rat beside him is still, her eyes trained in the distance. The next rebel's post is a meter or two away. Ghoul thinks they're both from the second crew to come, the really short girl being closest to him and the emo kid being the farthest.

"I think it's a trap," Ghoul tells them. 

They both look at him and the one closer to Ghoul shrugs. "Yeah, we figured as such." She turns to squint out at the sands. "But it's a good enough cause, and we're sick of sitting on our asses."

The other rebel nods in agreement. 

"I'm Neon Queen, by the way. That's Orange County. They don't talk too much." Neon Queen flicks her yellow hair out of her eyes and looks up at Ghoul.

"Nice to meet you." Ghoul doesn't know what else to say.

"You too."

Ghoul looks back out to the horizon just in time to see an approaching dust cloud.

"Okay, everyone, we've got some Dracs coming in!" Ghoul takes the grenades from his pockets, ready to throw them. Neon and Orange go to meet the white 'Am as it swerves to a stop, blasters out and shooting. Whatever rebel was on alerting-the-inside-group duty is yelling through the doors, then met with more yelling and shooting. The first two Dracs are down, but more cars keep coming.

Ghoul lobs at least three grenades before any rebel gets too close to the 'Ams that he can't throw them anymore. He switches to his blaster and starts shooting at anything that moves while a sea of Dracs arrive. He watches Neon Queen and Orange County from the corner of his eye, making sure they're still standing. The other three rebels on the other side of the building seem to be doing fine keeping the Dracs at bay, but Ghoul knows this won't last long. The amount of Masks is growing by the second.

The shooting team leaves the building to help them at some point. Ghoul looks around for the familiar head of red hair but doesn't find it, so he guesses Poison's still inside looking. 

The land that they're fighting on is chaos. Sand is getting kicked up everywhere, to the point where everyone's masks have to come down so they can see. Occasionally, a small explosion will shake the air as a rebel throws one of Ghoul's grenades. Dracs are dropping like flies, but every once in a while, a rebel will go down too. The difference is, the Dracs have a never-ending supply of fighters. 

And the rebels certainly do not.

At some point, one of the Youngbloods- the one with the afro- appears at Ghoul's side. 

"Any luck with the Killjoys?" Ghoul asks.

All he gets is a shake of the head before they have to take out a Drac. 

"I don't think they're here at all. This was all just a trap," Afro-man says. 

"Yeah, I know." Ghoul goes to shoot another Drac, only to realize his blaster is out of juice. " _ Fuck.  _ Got an extra blaster, Juvee?"

But before the Youngblood can respond, Ghoul is thrown to the ground via a blaster shot. Red hot pain explodes through his left shoulder, and for a second, Ghoul can't see anything. Ghoul scuttles away on the sands, and can vaguely see Afro-man step in front of him to cover him. 

Blood. Blood is just pouring out of his shoulder.  _ Fuck. _

"Shit. Oh, shit. Ghoul, you good man?" Afro-Man stands in front Ghoul, making sure no Drac can get another shot in, glancing at Ghoul whenever he can.

"Do I  _ look _ like I'm good, Juvee?  _ Fuck. _ " Ghoul leans back his head to look at the sky. He grits his teeth hard as another wave of pain hits him. "Fuuuck."

This isn't the first time Ghoul's gotten injured, not even the first time he's gotten shot. It doesn't change the pain, though.

"Okay. Okay, hold on a sec." The Juvee quickly takes off his jean jacket and throws it at Ghoul. "Try and slow the bleeding. When this blows over, we can get you some proper dressing for that shit."

Ghoul tries to rip the sleeve of the jacket off, but it's kinda hard to do that with one hand. Instead, he just balls it up and presses it against his shoulder, hissing at the increased pain.

"Ghoul!" 

Ghoul looks up to see Neon Queen making her way towards him.

"Whoa, what happened to you?" She asks when she sees his arm, dropping down beside him.

"Fucking Dracs got me," Ghoul grits out. "Get my bag, wouldya?"

Neon carefully gets Ghoul's bag out from beneath him and hands it over. Ghoul holds it between his legs and opens it, digging through to find what he needs while Neon keeps watch on the Dracs.

Ghoul pulls the shit bottle of Zone whiskey he keeps in there out along with some bandages. 

"Oh, hell no, you're not doing that yourself. Hand it over." Neon sticks out a hand expectantly.

"I can do it myself," Ghoul says, trying to get the bottle open.

"Doesn't mean you have to, though. C'mon, give it."

Ghoul groans and gives it to her. 

Neon carefully edges off Ghoul's vest and then tries to unstick his shirt from the wound. Ghoul lets out a beautiful little string of swears and keeps clenching and unclenching his right hand to distract himself.

(He can't move his left hand's fingers right now, but he's trying not to think about that.)

Neon finally gets it off and drenches the wound in whiskey before grabbing the bandages and dressing the thing best she can. Every Rat's had to do up an injury at some point, sometimes even on themselves.

Neon makes it quick work before standing up and shoving an extra blaster into Ghoul's right hand. "Best of luck," she says, and then she's off, weaving and shooting her way back to her crew.

Afro-man backs up so that he's standing next to Ghoul, still shooting at Dracs. "Here, c'mon." He takes the blaster from Ghoul's hand and hauls him up by his right arm. Ghoul stands uncomfortably, still wincing occasionally when his injury flares up. But he takes the Juvee's right side and shoots at anything in white that moves.

It seems like, for a moment, the Dracs are slowing down. That BL isn't sending as many anymore. The Rats seem to get a bit of an upper hand, just for a second.

And then a rebel comes running out of the Base, the others close behind. "Five minutes! Five minutes!"

That's when Ghoul remembers the bomb.

There's chaos, sand kicking up everywhere as Rats scramble to get to their cars and bikes, some carrying injured (or dead) crew members. Ghoul's about to go with them, but when he scans the crowd for red hair, he doesn't find it.

Poison. Where's Poison?

Ghoul tries his best to get through the crowd of rebels without bumping his shoulder too much. When he sees one of the people from the inside group, he grabs their arm, pulling them towards him urgently. "Where's Poison?"

"Man, I dunno, I gotta go-" the Rat's eyes are wide, and he's trying to pull away.

Not good enough. Ghoul shakes his head hard and tightens his grip. "Where's Poison?"

"Dude, let go of me. He's probably still inside. We couldn't find his crew."

Ghoul lets go and runs as best he can across the sands to the Base. He needs to get Poison out. 

He skids to a stop at the entrance. The once white walls are covered in spots of blood, and the floors are littered with dead Dracs, and as Ghoul looks closer, a few rebels too. Ghoul quickly snatches up their masks and blasters, stuffing them into his bag best he can with one arm. 

"Poison! Poison?" He keeps jogging down the hallways, looking into a room every now and then. "Dude, we gotta go!" 

There's no way Ghoul will be able to check every floor for Poison in time. If the Killjoy doesn't come out soon, Ghoul's gonna have to go if he wants to live.

"Ghoul?" Ghoul can hear a weak voice call out from a few doors away.

"Poison! Where are you?"

"I-" there's shuffling, and Poison appears from a room to Ghouls right. He looks like a fucking wreck, blood covering parts of his clothes, his hair matted down. The worst part is his face- the look of disappointment and sadness that's settled there is unnatural. "They're not here." 

"Yeah, I know, look, we have to go. The bomb's gonna go really soon." When Poison doesn't move, Ghoul steps forward. "Poison, we have to go  _ now." _

There's a pause, and then Poison nods and starts making his way over the bodies.

They're not moving fast enough. The bomb is gonna blow, and they won't be far enough away not to be affected.

They make it outside, and Ghoul starts running, grabbing Poison's hand with his good one and pulling him along. For a second, he thinks they might actually make it. 

Then- boom.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha.  
> ha.  
> haaaaaaaaaaaa  
> plsdont kill me  
> thanks for reading!!! leave a comment if you feel like it cos it really helps to motivate me  
> sorry again that this was so late!!
> 
> xxstella


	12. smile!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again!  
> i know, another chapter that didn't take a month to put out? what kind of world is this! (was i gonna wait until 69 kudos to post this but finished too early and now just wanna post it, 69 kudos be damned? that's a story ill never tell)  
> expect the next chapter to be pretty soon too. we've got a long weekend cos tomorrows a bank holiday and they give us Friday off too. so that's nice!  
> this chapter is kinda a filler chapter, but it establishes stuff i guess so   
> idk  
> lmaoo  
> also I'm so sorry to anyone reading cos my writing is so fucking inconsistent. I'm just trying to see what works and what doesn't so if its shit I'm truly sorry   
> enjoyyy

Ghoul wakes up slowly to voices. He can't see. It's like his eyes won't open.

The hell? Where is he? What happened?

Ghoul focuses on the voices, straining to hear. 

"-should I do with the Way?"

The way? What? Ghoul tries to move, but he can't even wiggle a finger. He can't move at all.

What the fuck??

"Dude, I dunno. Korse'll sort it out."

Korse? 

Where is he? What is this?

The last thing he can remember is running with Poison. Then the bomb…

"Think the Director's gonna Wipe them? The Ways, I mean."

"I mean, probably. Imagine how good that's going to look for her and Korse- they got one of the biggest rebels and flipped him into the best Crow. And then the leader of the rebels turns into the leader of Better Living? That's a huge success. She'll show the higher-ups they can trust her. You know they've been suspicious ever since…"

"Yeah, that whole incident out East? You've got a good point."

Ghoul can barely follow whatever the two voices are saying. What do they mean by the East? And who the fuck are the higher-ups? Ghoul thought Better Living was all there is. The pain in Ghoul's cheeks gets stronger.

"Course I do, newbie. Hand me those scissors, would you?"

"Sure...is he awake?"

"Oh. Pass me that syringe, please."

No, no! Ghoul tries to move away, but he still can't, he can't, he got caught, they're going to kill him-

Ghoul's arm stings where the needle enters, and Ghoul slips back to unconsciousness.

\-------------

The next time Fun Ghoul wakes up, it's just one doctor leaning over him, the one asking the questions earlier.

"Ghoul. Hey, Ghoul, you gotta get up."

Ghoul opens his eyes, feeling as if he's coming out of the longest sleep of his life. He's overwhelmed with blinding overhead lights shining directly into his eyes and loud beeping noises that seem to be everywhere. Ghoul sits up (he can move!) and tries to get an idea of where he is.

Memories come flooding back as his brain starts working again. They were at the Base, right? He remembers running...running with Poison.

Poison. Oh fuck, where's Poison? 

And his arm. Wasn't he shot in the shoulder? Ghoul experimentally tries to shrug with his left arm, and it works. How? 

Ghoul looks around at the white walls and the white floor and the bright white lights. 

Better Living.

Finally, his eyes land on the man at the end of his bed. Ghoul scrambles back towards the wall, hand reaching for a blaster that isn't there.

"Whoa, it's just me, Ghoul. It's Benzedrine." 

Ghoul squints against the lighting, and sure enough, the doctor is just a Juvee, standing in a long lab coat with a clipboard in hand. Benze's eyes dart around, landing anywhere but on Ghoul's face, mouth pulled into a forced smile.

Ghoul goes to open his mouth and ask where he is or why Benzedrine is here.

But he can't.

He can't open his mouth.

Why can't he open his mouth?

He reaches up a hand and is met with rough, raised skin and stitches going from one cheek to the other as though in a smile.

Holy fuck.

"Yeah, they, uh." Benze moves closer, laying a hand on Ghoul's shoulder in what Ghoul guesses is supposed to be a comforting manner, but is actually just annoying. "They sewed up your mouth. I'm so sorry man, I couldn't stop them, they'd get suspicious…" Benze pauses. Ghoul's fingers keep running over the line again and again.

Oh my god.

"Look, we're trying to get you and Jet out-"

Ghoul almost asks about Jet before he remembers he can't. 

"But you gotta stay put for now, okay? It'll only last a few days before we can get you two out." Benze keeps looking around like he's afraid a Crow will just pop out of nowhere and bust him. 

Ghoul nods, unable to do much else. 

\-------------

When Benze comes around a day later, he's armed with a notepad and pen for Ghoul. Ghoul's been drifting in and out of consciousness- far as he can tell, the doctors haven't done anything else to him. They cut his hair sometime after Benze left yesterday, and Ghoul's grieving the loss of his locks, but he'd take losing his hair over losing a limb any day.

Ghoul takes the pad gratefully. The first thing he writes is Poison's name. 

_ Poison. Where? _

Benze's face turns sad as he reads the words, shoulders sagging. "He and Kobra, they're," Benze trails off, a pained look on his face. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and stares at the clipboard in his hand as if it'll solve all his problems. Ghoul has half a mind to grab the Juvee by the shoulders and shake him until he can get a sentence out in one go. "They're in S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W training."

S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W training. Fuck.

And it's all Ghoul's fault. They'd never have been dragged into this if Ghoul hadn't been so fucking dumb. If he hadn't tried talking to Poison that day at the gas station. If he had just stopped Poison from going to the Base. 

"Yeah, it turns out they're the Director's sons."

Ghoul doesn't feel like telling Benze he already knew they were Ways. He doesn't have the mental capacity to sort through this shit right now. He takes the pad back and writes another name-  _ Jet _ .

"Oh, Jet. He's a few doors down. He also got modified. He's missing an eye."

Missing an eye. How could anyone do that to another person? This whole situation is so fucked up.

The next scribbles are just question marks. He shoves it towards the Juvee.  _ Why? _

"Korse is trying to see what modifications he can make to improve the Drac design, apparently. I have no clue, honestly. It's all kinda fucked, like a thinly veiled form of torture." Benze shrugs, the sad, hopeless look still on his face. Ghoul kinda wants to punch him. His sad face is getting on his nerves.

Ghoul turns towards the white, empty wall and just gets more pissed at the lack of color. He wants Benzedrine to go. 

The Juvee gets the message and leaves quietly, taking the pen and pad with him.

\-------------

Unfortunately, the next visitor isn't Benzedrine. 

Everyone in the Zones knows who Korse is. He's the scary story parents tell their motorbabies to get them to do what they want. He's the face of the Masks, the big bad wolf everyone's fighting. 

But really, if Korse catches you, it's doubtful you'll live to tell the tale. Or rather, no Rat makes it out. You either get dead or get turned in to a dumb City citizen. 

Guess which one is worse.

(It's the latter. You might not have guessed correctly, but the latter is worse.)

This dude, he doesn't really fit the whole tall tale. Big, bald, menacing glare, sure. 

But he's also dressed like a pirate, with frilly sleeves and collar plus the ugly brown vest. 

Ghoul would've laughed. Except he can't. And it's this dude's fault.

Maybe he should be afraid of him. Maybe this Mask _ is  _ the big bad wolf, and Ghoul is just a scared little piggy.

But Ghoul's also a Zone Rat- in other words, he's a spiteful, indignant little fuck ready to kill any Mask he sees, especially the leader of them who had his mouth sewn up.

Korse stands at the end of the bed, staring at Ghoul. Ghoul glares right back.

"Here's how this is going to go. You will cooperate, or you die."

Ghoul tries to spit at him, but oh yeah. He can't. So now he's got a bunch of extra saliva in his mouth.

When'd his life turn to such shit? 

Ghoul glares harder. They can't kill him anyway- if Korse is trying to speak to him, he's obviously too valuable. Ghoul wonders if they already tried to get Jet to talk.

Korse nods. "Right then." He presses down on an earpiece in his ear like he's out of some spy movie. "Get him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop another cliffhanger  
> sorry not sorry?  
> pls don't kill me
> 
> comments and kudos mean a lot to me soo. and constructive criticism is encouraged lol
> 
> xxstella


	13. remember?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im doing this during english class rn lmaoo  
> this chapter was surprisingly easy to write, probably because i didn't try to force it   
> i dunno if it seems ooc or something but idk you'll see  
> I'm pretty happy with this tho so yay!  
> also, ignore the overuse of the word 'familiar' lmao  
> enjoyyyy

Gerard's in a car, one he recognizes as a colored Trans 'Am. It feels so very familiar, and yet he can't place it. He's never driven a colored 'Am before- that's a rebel thing, isn't it?

Yet, here he is. Gerard leans back into the seat, one hand out the window with a cigarette in hand, the other on the wheel. He's driving.

And driving.

And driving.

It's the most like himself that Gerard's felt for a while.

\-------------

Poison wakes up to Kobra shaking him. "Poison, you overslept, c'mon wake up."

Poison rolls over, kicking at Kobra from under the dingy sheets. He buries his nose into the mildewing mattress, inhaling the Room's gross smell and the smell of home. He's still half asleep, still half-dreaming.

And then Mikey shoves him off the bed, and he wakes up fully. He lands with a thud on the hard, white floor. Gerard looks up at the walls, all bare and white. 

White.

That seems off for some reason, but that's the way it's always been.

"What the fuck, Mikey. I was just waking up, god." Gerard pushes himself up from the floor with no help from his brother, untangling himself from the fluffy duvet he sleeps in. Mikey stands on the other side of the bed, giggling softly. 

This is nice, Gerard thinks. A bit rarer to hear a laugh after they take their pills. 

Yeah, no duh. The Pills are the whole reason they-

"C'mon, get dressed, Mom made pancakes. You gotta take your pills too." Mikey chucks a shirt at Gerard, which Gerard barely catches with his hand as he rubs his face with the other. 

"Okay, I'll meet you downstairs." Gerard shoves the shirt on over his head, and Mikey shakes his head at him, overgrown bleached hair flying-

Gerard blinks, and Mikey's hair returns to the cropped brown it's always been.

God, Gerard really needs some coffee.

\-------------

Gerard stands awkwardly in the hallway of subfloor 3, the interrogation floor. He's early, waiting for Korse to show up. Wishing that he was in something more comfortable, he tugs down on his uniform's stiff white sleeves.

It's a bit unfair, his job. Mikey leads a troop of exterminators and draculoids, so he goes out on runs to the desert all the time. Meanwhile, Gerard is stuck working dumb jobs in the headquarters: interrogating whatever rebels that teams like Mikey's bring back. It's supposedly meant to help Gerard prepare to lead Better Living, to allow him to get closer to the citizens, but it feels more like Korse and the higher-ups don't trust Gerard. Which is irrational, seeing as Gerard's never done anything wrong.

The leader of the exterminators walks down the hall, right on time, ruffled collar and all. 

"Way." Korse's curt nod is the only acknowledgment Gerard gets from the tall man before he's being ushered into another white room, the one outside of the interrogation room.

Korse hands over a white file, and Gerard scans through it quickly. Another rebel, one from the underground, got caught in a firefight with some dracs. 

(Firefight? What's  _ that _ ?)

Lindsey Ballato, alias Lyn-Z. Apparently, this kid's running something down below. They aren't sure what exactly she's running, but they have 'reasons to believe she is committing treason.' The image of a girl with dyed black hair stares up at him, and an old memory itches in Gerard's mind as though he knows her from somewhere. Maybe he's seen her on a trip to the underground before.

"If you are prepared, you can go in," Korse says. Gerard simply nods and makes his way in.

"Hello, Ms. Ballato. I'm Gerard Way." Gerard goes for 'good cop,' knowing that if he doesn't get the information, Korse will have a go at her. And if there's anything Korse isn't, it's kind.

The girl stares at the table, refusing to look at him. Her hair is pulled back into pigtails, a childish look that she manages to pull off. Remnants of a dark red lipstick stain her mouth, which is currently pulled into a sneer. She really does look familiar, but Gerard can't quite place her.

Gerard sits in the chair across from Lindsey, leaning forward on his forearms. "Ms. Ballato, look. You can tell us what you're running, or at least what you know, now and be done with this. If you don't, my colleague, Korse, will have to come in, and you don't want that." 

Lindsey looks up at the mention of Korse, right at Gerard, and her sneer immediately turns into a look of confusion. " _ Poison? _ "

"Sorry, what?"

Lindsey jumps up and grabs Gerard's face in her hands, a broad smile on her face. "Oh Destroya, we all thought you were dead! What're you doin' here?"

Gerard watches as the dracs by the door lay their hands on their blasters, ready to shoot. "Lindsey, let go of me. I'm sure you have me mixed up with someone else. I'm Gerard Way-"

"Oh." Lindsey's arms drop back down to her sides as she sits. "Oh, I bet you've been Wiped, haven't you?"

"Wiped? Ms. Ballato, please, let's move on. You have me confused with someone else."

Lindsey crosses her arms and frowns. "I don't know nothing."

"If you continue to refuse to cooperate, I'll have to call Korse in."

Lindsey looks at him long and hard, leaning in. "I. Don't. Know. Nothing. And I'm not talking."

Gerard shrugs and stands up. He's used to this. No one ever wants to talk. He leaves, shooting her a sympathetic glance as Korse makes his way inside.

\-------------

What she said stays on Gerard's mind all day. Why had she called him Poison? He swears he's heard it before. It feels almost more familiar than Gerard does.

But that's silly.

Gerard elbows his way through the crowd of draculoids in the cafeteria, trying to keep his tray of pre-selected processed foods from falling. It's lunchtime, Gerard just got out of his second interrogation/questioning of today. They were both pretty quick- no rebel ever wants to speak, and Korse rarely lets Gerard do the dirtier work of getting them to.

And what did she mean by wiped? Is that some sort of underground slang?

He plops down in his assigned spot. Lucky for him, the person next to him is a crow often down in the underground. He'd probably know if it was slang.

The dude is short with black hair cropped like everyone else's. Gerard feels nostalgic about something every time he looks at that man, so Gerard prefers not to.

"Hey." 

The dude's gaze flicks to Gerard then back down to his issued ham and cheese sandwich. "Hey."

"How, um," Gerard scratches his head and looks away, regretting his decision to attempt conversation with this guy. Maybe he can find the word somewhere else? Something about this man feels achingly familiar, but Gee can't remember where from. "How's your sandwich?"

The other crow turns and stares at Gerard long enough to successfully make him feel like the dumbest man alive. "What do you want?"

"Okay, look. I was in an interrogation earlier with some juvie, and she said a word. I dunno, I heard you might know underground slang."

The man continues to stare at Gerard for a solid minute before Gerard understands that he's waiting.

"Oh. Uh. She said 'wiped.'" Gerard picks at his own sandwich (which is shit, by the way), seriously considering burying himself in a hole and never coming out again. 

"Wiped. That means brainwashed. Normally when we capture a rebel, we wipe their memory and train them to be crows."

Ah. 

Wait, she said he'd been wiped, though. But there's no way-

He can't have been a rebel, that's insane. He wasn't. Duh. He's been in the City his whole life.

(But isn't that what you'd think if you'd been wiped?)

(Was he a rebel?)

Gerard nods once to the dude, muttering thanks, and then practically runs the fuck out of there, dumping his untouched sandwich in the trash.

He speed-walks to the bathroom down the hall, nodding at people he passes, trying not to be too suspicious. When he gets there, he slams into the door and locks himself into a stall, sliding down onto the white tile.

_ Was  _ he a rebel? Before what? Before now? How long had this been  _ real, _ if he had been a rebel and they had brainwashed him?

He has no way to know.

And it would make sense- the weird dreams, the glances of something else, the odd vocabulary. 

But there's no way!

Rebels are evil, good-for-nothing scum. Gerard's a crow- hell, he's a Way, for Witch's sake!

He hits his head against the door of the stall.  _ Witch's sake? _

But then again, if he were a rebel, he'd never know. Of course he'd think rebels are lower than dirt. That's what everyone in the City is trained to believe.

Trained? No. It's what everyone in the City thinks because it's  _ true. _

_ God, _ this is making his head hurt.

What's  _ wrong _ with him?

Gerard hits his head against the door again, and the dull pain brings him back down to earth a bit. Maybe he needs to talk to his doctor and get a higher dosage- they said these kinds of things were supposed to be fixed by the pills, right?

Yeah. 

Yeah. That's what he'll do. That's his problem, just a thing with the pills.

Okay.

Gerard pushes up off the floor, unlocks the door, and goes to the sink. He looks tired. He always looks tired nowadays.

He quickly splashes his face with cold water, trying to snap out of it. He stares at himself in the mirror again, and a redhead sneers back at him. The redhead's eyes are full of venom, but he looks tired too. 

Gerard vaguely recalls what Lyn-Z had called him, and it fits with the man staring at him.

_ Poison. _

Gerard splashes his face again, and the man is gone. 

_ What is wrong with him? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that concludes our session of chloë uses the word 'familiar' too many times to get her point across  
> i changed up the capitalization from how i normally write the terms cos he's a crow so its purposeful not me just completely forgetting lmao  
> hope you liked it! hope you don't kill me! comment what you thought plss i love your guys' comments they mean a lot
> 
> xxstella


	14. see?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is kinda shit editing so i might come back and update this with a better version. I'm just really fucking tired rn lol  
> also, my writing managed to get even more inconsistent (i know, how??) but uh yeah this was the best i could do for now lmao  
> I'm actually pretty scared cos I've recently been getting into another fandom (supernatural like a fucking nerd) and I'm scared it'll turn out that i lose all motivation for this story and i don't want that :(((  
> either way, here's this chapter lol

Korse had his whole 'Get him.' espionage movie moment, but then there were apparently some ' _ difficulties,'  _ and a rebel had been captured or something, and Korse had to take care of that. 

Ghoul would've made some kind of snarky comment about not being important enough or something. But, uh. Obvious complications.

So instead of being escorted by the pirate-looking douchebag, Ghoul got taken by some Dracs to another room. A doctor greeted them with a grand smile, sat Ghoul down, and told him it would all be okay.

Long story short, Ghoul's mouth is sore, but he can actually speak again, thank the Witch.

But now he's sitting in yet another empty white room. He's handcuffed to a table in the middle and sat in a fucking uncomfortable metal chair. He's been here for two hours (there's a digital clock on the wall facing him), ass aching and cold. There's nothing to even look at to keep himself occupied. 

White, white, white.

He's considering taking a nap at the table to pass the time when suddenly the door opens and Korse steps in, leading another Crow in. 

"Well, if it isn't the pirate-Crow. Your ruffles are cute, Korsie, vintage." Ghoul revels in the fact that he can actually speak. Is he totally abusing it now and likely going to get in even more shit?

Ha. Yeah.

Korse merely sends him a warning glance (Ghoul likes to think maybe he's hurt) and ushers the other Mask in before leaving. 

Ghoul looks back at the clock on the wall, ignoring the newcomer until the dude sits right in front of him.

"Hello, Mr. Iero. I'm Gerard Way."

Ghoul slowly turns towards the Crow, and...

No fucking way is that-

"Poison?" Yeah, Benze had told him the brothers were in Crow training, but Poison's on duty so soon after...

Poison's hair is short, like Ghoul's, and dark, his eyes holding none of the rebellion they used to. 

"Why does everyone keep calling me that?!" Poison asks, throwing his hands into the air. He doesn't even move like himself. The poor man looks exhausted like his brain's been working on overload. 

_ You did this. _

"Oh my god, Poison, I'm so sorry," Ghoul whispers, eyes wide.

" _ Why are you sorry?  _ I don't even know you!" 

"No, no, it's me, it's Ghoul. Poison, it's  _ me, _ " Ghoul says in a hopeless attempt to get Poison to  _ remember.  _ He watches as Poison's face contorts into confusion to annoyance. 

"No, I don't know you." Poison pushes up and out of his seat, shaking his head. "I don't-" The rebel-turned-Crow starts pacing, hands looking like they're itching for paints, before he wheels around, eyes a bit wild, and points at Ghoul. "I- _ Do  _ I know you?"

Ghoul just nods. He doesn't know what to say. It's not like Ghoul was Poison's crew member or anything like that. They hadn't known each other that long. 

"But how could I know you?" Poison sits back down carefully. 

"I worked with you and your crew for a bit." 

Maybe he'll remember. Maybe he's not entirely lost.

"My crew?" Poison asks, and then his face closes off. "No, no, because I'm not a rebel. I'm a  _ Crow. _ " 

Ghoul decides he really, really hates Korse for this. For having Poison come in and see him.

And then he decides he also really, really hates himself for how Poison is right now. It's his fault, after all. 

"Pois, they're going to notice something's wrong if you keep freaking out. Look, you don't remember now, but you certainly won't remember anything if they Wipe you again." And Ghoul doesn't want Poison to stop remembering. He wants to take Poison by the shoulders and shake him until the memories come back. 

Poison's shoulders sag in exhaustion, and he stares at Ghoul as though if he thinks hard enough, his memory will return. "Okay."

Korse comes in a few seconds later, looking so fucking smug. "Did you get anything, Mr. Way?"

"No, sir, he won't say a word." Poison doesn't look up at Korse, eyes still trained on the rebel across from him.

"Well, then, I'll take over from here. Thank you." 

Poison stands and leaves, looking very far away. Korse glares at Ghoul and takes the now empty seat. 

This'll be fun.

\-------------

It's the next day that the Youngbloods get Ghoul and Jet out.

Ghoul doesn't remember much- he remembers the Youngbloods lying about a prisoner transfer or something, a few dead Dracs, and then Jet's terrified face as they made their way down below. He thinks he fell asleep because then he's waking up on a mattress in the Underground.

The mattress is notably more comfortable than anything in the Zones, so Ghoul guesses the Lobby gets their supplies from the City. The room he's in is small, dark, and smells like dirt. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the lightless room, and he sees a candle next to his bed. Ghoul lights it and turns to see Jet and the Youngbloods in other beds, all fast asleep.

Ghoul carefully gets up and leaves through the hung tarp that acts as a door.

Outside (the room, obviously. They're underground), there are lights at every tarp-door thing, so Ghoul gets a clear view of where he is.

The Lobby looks different then he'd always pictured it. He'd had a weird idea of like huts or something, or just a town but underground. Instead, the buildings are all in the Tunnels walls, like the one Ghoul was just in. Bridges and elevated pathways connect the tarps, and the levels seem to go down and down and down. It's weird and kinda trippy. The lack of natural lighting is super disorientating, especially as someone from the Zones. He feels blind without the sun. Ghoul has no fucking clue what time it is or how many days have passed. Barely anybody is on the pathways below him, so he's assuming it's late in the day. 

Maybe Jet has a good point of fearing to be underground.

Ghoul goes back inside and falls back onto the mattress.

\-------------

Jet gets an eyepatch for his missing eye, and it feels like staring into a black hole. Ghoul tries to look anywhere but at the patch, looking at the slightly-better-than-Zone-food food or his hands instead.

His left hand is shaky, and sometimes he'll try to do something with it, and it won't work right. It's fucking annoying. He guesses it has something to do with the shot to his shoulder. 

Ghoul tries not to think about how it'll affect him making bombs.

Jet gazes at the smaller rebel before breaking the awkward silence they've been sitting in. "This sucks ass."

Ghoul snorts. "Tell me about it."

"I fucking miss them." And Jet looks so sad Ghoul has to look away.

Ghoul doesn't know what to do or what to say. He sits back in his chair, listening to the chatter of the Juvees in the cafeteria area. The chairs, tables, and trays for food are all white, but the walls are covered from ceiling to floor with posters and graffiti. The graffiti makes him think of Poison, and that just makes him sadder than he already was. "This is all my fault, y' know?"

"C'mon, don't say that."

"No, it's true. I got us into this mess. All my dumb fucking ideas, and then Poison was with me when y'all got taken, and then I was too fucking dumb to stop Poison from trying to find you guys at that Base… it's all my fault, Jet."

"You really didn't know any of that was going to happen. You couldn't have known that we would've gotten taken. And you  _ know _ nobody tells Poison what to do."

Ghoul shrugs and keeps looking at the walls, trying to act like he doesn't really care.

(He does care. Quite a bit, actually.)

"Really, Ghoul. Don't beat yourself up about it, you couldn't have known."

Before Ghoul can object, Sandman takes a seat next to him, eyeliner smudged and eyes weary. 

"Damn, you look like you need a nap," Ghoul says before he can think better of it.

Sandman blinks a few times at the bluntness. "Wow, thanks."

"Sorry, I didn't-"

"It's all good. How's your lunch? Your mouth feeling any better?" Sandy turns to Jet. "And how about your eye?"

Ghoul shrugs again, taking a bite from his sandwich as if to say, all good.

"Well, the food's better than the shit we have out in the Zones. And my eye is still gone, so," Jet pauses. "I mean, it could be worse."

"Yeah. Uh, I came over here to actually ask you guys about what you wanna do next."

"We're getting Kobra and Poison out," Ghoul says, determined.

"But first, I wanna get back up to the Zones, check-in with the Doc." Jet picks at his food, face flushing slightly. "Also, I hate being underground."

Sandman chuckles. "Fair enough. We'll see what we can do." He stands and claps Ghoul on the shoulder. "I'll see you guys later."

"Ciao."

Jet grins at that. "Adios."

"Fucking weirdos." Sandy walks away, shaking his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aight imma go take a nap  
> sorry for the inconsistent writing style lmao  
> i love reading your guys comments, they mean a lot!!  
> have a great day i love yall
> 
> xxstella


	15. yo, you got the goods?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chucks chapter at you* ITS FINALLY DONE, HERE, HAVE IT  
> 23 days holyyy  
> I'm sorry lol  
> uh  
> this chapter kinda sucks. at this point I'm kinda just writing it to get it done with so...  
> school gets out on Friday! i should be able to write more then, but no promises lol  
> well, enjoy.

"Mikey," he says. "Mikey, it's the _pills._ " Gerard shakes the bed next to his. He's vaguely aware that he's younger- 11 maybe?

But the bed is empty, and there's no reply. And then Gerard's laying in the mattress, still in his childhood room he shared with Mikey, but now he's older. There's someone next to him that feels familiar, with shoulder-length black hair and only 3 feet of height, but Gerard can't make out his face.

"What's the Pills, Gee?" The man says, but the nickname feels wrong coming from him, as though he shouldn't know that name.

And then Gerard is crying and crying, and the man turns away from him, and then he's is in a vast, empty room. There's a breeze that shakes out his hair, and it's red, which isn't right. Gerard has short dark hair.

Then he's sitting in an old booth in some abandoned diner. There's a woman across from him, ancient eyes creased in worry. Black feathers rustle against her face, but he can't if she's got wings or if it's her outfit.

"Oh, don't cry, Poison," she says, and she envelopes him in a hug. "You weren't meant to be where you are now. You need to get out."

And this Poison person knows more than Gerard does because this makes sense to him. "How?" He asks the woman. "How do I get out?"

"I can't help you, son."

And then she's gone, and Gerard doesn't like this, and he wants to wake up, he wants to wake up so bad.

The fight for consciousness is like swimmi-

What? What was he trying to say?

He can't remember.

What's waking up like?

Something he'd heard in his...his reading things. Books? But Korse doesn't allow those.

What was it? Something with water. Why can't he remember? _Why can't he remember?_

And then Gerard turns over and wakes up, face-to-face with his med bottles.

_It's the pills._

_How do I get out?_

He gets up, dumps the pills down the toilet, and lays in bed until the light filtering through the windows turns bright, and he has to get up.

\-------------

"Good morning, Gerard. Are you going to the doctor's today?" The Director speaks to him in Japanese, her native language, and it's the only thing that changes her from work to home. (Gerard feels a flash of bitterness at how she's nothing like a mother should be, and it startles him- it's never bothered him before, so why now?)

She slides some flavorless scrambled eggs and a piece of toast onto Gerard's plate, a fake smile pulling up her lips. 

Oh, right. Gerard said he'd talk to his doctor today to ask for a higher dose on his meds...

But now his pills are all down the toilet.

"I decided I'm fine, actually," he says, eating a forkful of shit eggs. How had he never noticed how horrible these were before?

"Okay. Eat up." The Director spins on her heels, her short bob defying the laws of physics and staying in precisely the same place. 

Gerard turns away and sips his coffee. He's fucking _tired._ He hadn't gone back to sleep after he woke up from his dream last night. A thousand thoughts had been running through his head at lightning speed, question after question filling up his mind.

He'd decided by the time the sun came up that he needs to get more information from Lyn-z.

And maybe not get caught off his pills while he's at it.

\-------------

"Oh, if it isn't Mr. Way again. What is _up,_ Mr. Totally-a-Crow-and-Not-A-Rebel?" Lyn-z sits against the far wall of the white holding cell, her body filling half of the tiny room. She smiles mirthlessly up at him, red lipstick gone and black hair down. Dressed in all white and colorless, she looks nothing like a rebel.

Gerard guesses that's kinda the point.

"I want you to tell me everything about this Poison person," Gerard says, checking the hallway and ducking further into the room. 

Lyn-z shrugs. "Okay. But you need to do something for me in return."

"Such as…?"

"I need you to get me out of this dump and back Underground."

The Crow thinks about this for a second before deciding it's doable.

"Okay. I can do that." Gerard holds out a hand for shaking, but Lyn-z glares at it until he drops his arm back to his side.

"Then we have ourselves a deal. Sit down, it's storytime."

"No, there are cameras in here. C'mon, I'll take you to an interrogation room."

No one questions him as he leads the rebel into the room (perks of being the Director's son). Lyn-z and Gerard sit at the table, facing each other.

"What do you want to know, pretty boy?"

"Who's Poison, and _why does everyone keep calling me that?"_

"It's you, silly. At least you Before." (Lyn-z says before in such a way that it sounds capitalized). "You really never heard of a Party Poison?"

Gerard shakes his head.

"Huh. Guess they didn't wanna trigger any memories or some shit. Party Poison was like- the _face_ of the rebels. He was the big dude, the leader."

"Was?"

"Yeah. You and a pretty big group of rebels went to a Base to try and get some missing members of your crew back- Kobra Kid and Jet Star. You got ambushed by a bunch of Dracs. Apparently, the Base blew up from one of your bombs, and you got stuck in the aftermath."

The names sound so familiar, like home. The whole story does, in a way. Something itches in the back of Gerard's mind, and he feels as though he has a headache coming on. But instead of shying away from the itch, he latches on, digging further.

Kobra Kid and Jet Star. Kobra and Jet. Kobra and Jet. Bleached hair, red leather jacket, afro, GOOD LUCK. 

What does any of that mean?

"What else?"

Lyn-z looks at him, tight-lipped.

"What else?"

"We knew each other. You escaped the City when you were, what, 13? You went to the Lobby first. Stayed with me and my crew for a month or two 'fore Doc found you and pulled you out. You and I, we were pretty good friends." She shrugs. "But you had to go. Destroya knows Kobra needed out."

"Destroya?"

"Oh, Witch, I guess we're gonna have a class about rebel slang."

\-------------

By the time Gerard makes it back to his room, his heads spinning.

Because this means he had been a rebel, doesn't it?

He tries breaking it down in his head a bit. Lyn-z had said that he left the City with Mikey- Kobra- at 13. So, his memories from age 13 to what…

How old is Gerard?

19? He doesn't _feel_ 19\. He feels way too old. But when he tries to remember any past birthday, 19 is all that comes up.

Blowing out the candles on a flavorless white cake, laughing with Mikey and the Director.

All fake.

What else was fake, then?

The Director teaching him to drive an 'Am? Mikey's graduation from Crow Academy?

Gerard paces his room, hands itching for something, a release. For a second, he wants nothing more than a drink, but he pushes that out of his mind. Drinking is a no-go in his brain for some reason.

Instead, color takes up his imagination. A bright rainbow of images swirl in his brain, and he calms ever so slightly.

What does he do?

What can he do?

Downstairs, the front door opens and closes, alerting Gerard of a new presence.

"Gee, you home?" Mikey's familiar voice floats up from the bottom floor.

"Yeah, I'm upstairs!" Gerard yells back down.

This he can do- he can tell Mikey. 

The brother in question runs up the stairs and into Gerard's room, flopping down on his bed. 

"Tough day at work?"

Mikey makes a non-commital noise from where is face is smooshed into the pillow. After a second, he sits up and stares at Gerard, his face as blank as ever.

"Tell me."

Gerard furrows his eyebrows, looking down at Mikey from where he was still standing across the room. "What?"

"What's wrong? Something's wrong."

Gerard hesitates for a second, wondering he should tell Mikey or not. The dude is the top crow, a fucking prodigy at only 17. 

But 'the dude' is also his kid brother. "This is gonna sound really crazy, Mikes, but hear me out, okay?"

Mikey's eyebrows furrow, but he nods. "Okay."

"I- I've been having these bizarre dreams lately, dreams of me being a...a rebel. And they seemed so real like they were memories. And it just got me thinking. Cos like, sometimes my brain comes up with weird phrases, or I see things wrong, like the other day I thought you had bleached long hair, but you don't, y'know, you have short brown hair, like me, but I think I used to have red hair, and I think everything used to be colorful, and-"

"Gerard, calm down, breathe." Mikey pats the bed next to him, and Gerard sits. "What are you trying to say?"

"I talked to a rebel we brought in the other day, and she told me, she told me everything. She said I was-" Gerard's eyes dart to the side to meet Mikey's, trying to gauge his brother's reaction. "She said I used to be a rebel, and that my name was Party Poison, and that I was like, the leader of the desert or some shit, but she called it the Zones, and..."

Mikey stares at Gerard for a few seconds. "And you _believed_ her?"

"Mikey, please, you have to trust me. It just felt so _right,_ and it made so much sense, and it feels like- like _everything_ makes more sense now." Gerard grabs Mikey's shoulders, desperate for his brother to understand. "Please."

The younger of the two nods slowly. "Okay. Okay. I've heard things about a Party Poison and his crew before when I was out in the desert. They disappeared like, a few days ago. It's all anyone's talking about. But there's no way that's _us._ "

"Think, Mikey. Like, really, how well can you remember the past year? The past 6 years?"

Mikey stares at the wall across from them, face scrunching in concentration before falling back to disbelief. "Yeah, but I also can never remember what we had for dinner the night before."

"So, you haven't had any weird dreams, like I've had?"

Looking at Gerard from the corner of his eyes, Mikey deflects the question. "If you were Party Poison, would that make me K-"

"Kobra Kid! Yes, that's what Lyn-Z said. And the other one, Jet Star."

"Wasn't there another one, though? The rebels talk about Party Poison going with someone else."

"Yeah, I interrogated another rebel that knew me, said his name was Ghoul."

"Fun Ghoul?"

The name rings so many bells his mind sounds like a church after a wedding. "Yeah!"

"And what you're saying is, you think that was _us?"_

Gerard shrugs like this whole situation isn't the biggest fucking thing, like it's no biggie. "And..." Gerard inhales sharply, knowing it's too late to go back now. "And I'm off the pills."

"You're _what now?"_

"Mikey, please don't freak out, it's okay."

"What about this is okay? You're off your meds! Are you insane?? Why would you do that?" Mikey gets off the bed and starts pacing, hands gesticulating wildly.

"I think they have some weird brainwashing kind of thing. I've started noticing more things, like how food tastes, and I don't feel as numb as usual, and-" Gerard tugs his brother's arm, pleading. "Please, Mikey, please just trust me."

Mikey stops his pacing. "This is _i_ _nsane_ ," he whispers. "Rebels are...they're dirt, and you're _trusting_ one? She's obviously lying, just trying to start trouble."

"But what if she's not?! She said I would've been brainwashed! How could I know if it was true or not?"

"Because you have memories, memories of here!"

"How can I know those are real? And it wasn't just her, Mikey! Korse had me interrogate Ghoul. He recognized me too!"

Mikey shakes his head and repeats himself from earlier. "This is insane."

"You keep saying that, but is it really? You've been to the Academy- doesn't this seem like something BL would do? Brainwash rebels and turn them into crows?"

"I can't really remember the Academy." Mikey squints as he tries to recall the years of training. "It's all kinda...blurry."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about!"

"But that's impossible. There's no way, Gee."

"Just don't take your pills tonight and tomorrow morning. Please. If you don't notice anything different, then whatever."

Mikey exhales softly. "Fine."

\-------------

The next morning, Mikey wakes Gerard up, face wild, and the biggest wave of deja vu hits Gerard like a punch to the gut. 

They've done this before. Gerard telling him not to take the pills, Mikey waking him up in awe at the dreams he got. 

_It's the pills, Mikey. It's the pills._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love it when you guys comment, they motivate me a bunch, and I'm always open to constructive criticism (pls). drop some kudos if you feel like it  
> love yall and stay safe
> 
> xxstella


	16. tin can telephone (from your home to my home)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whats this????? an update??  
> im gonna be honest i was really just gonna drop this story and leave it unfinished but yALL  
> i realised how boring most other worlds are and missed this one  
> and then a very kind person commented and then so many danger days fics were updating and then BAM i decide to write and out came 2000 words  
> ngl this is pretty much just filler and i don't really like it all that much but its SOMETIHNG ok  
> thank you to everyone who's left comments and kudos you guys are amazing  
> (title from why we ever by Hayley Williams- gorgeous song)

It's been a few days since Mikey's gone off the pills as well (3, to be exact), and it's been a bit of a clusterfuck. 

For one, Gerard's been getting an annoying amount of random memories that wear him out. Not to mention, withdrawal sucks absolute ass, and the sudden onslaught of emotions that come when they're finally not being suppressed is overwhelming. All he wants to do is sleep all day.

On top of that, the Killjoys escaped. When Gerard went to look them up in the database, the files recording their captivity were just…gone. It didn't take too long before he got the story out of someone, though. The security feeds showed nothing, but the next morning when a crow went to check on them, the rebels had been gone, leaving a hall full of dead dracs in their wake. 

Korse had been  _ enraged _ and started interrogating everyone as soon as possible but couldn't get any information. (Haha. Sucks to be a loser, don't it?)

Gerard, he was simply disappointed he couldn't talk to them first. 

But it doesn't matter because now he has to get Lyn-z out, and she can bring the rebels a message. 

The plan is basic but effective: Mikey will steal a drac suit from the armory along with a blaster while Gerard signs out a card that opens her cell. Then he'll fuck with the security cams a bit, changing their feeds to a still picture of the hallway. 

Everything goes smoothly. Mikey goes to deliver Lyn-z's lunch in the drac suit, but when he does he stands a bit too close to the cell. And, oops! She takes the gun and the card and escapes! Oh, no!

Lyn-z makes it out with barely an issue, and now all Gerard has to do is wait. 

And wait.

And wait.

\-------------

The sun has never felt so good. Ghoul wants to kiss it; he missed it so much. He revels in the sunlight as he steps out onto the sands for the first time in the week since they escaped. The Youngbloods have finally let them back out of the Lobby to visit the Doc and have a much overdue check-in.

Looking over at Jet, he knows he feels the same thing. Jet's eye squints against the brightness, trying to adjust, but he still lifts his face to the sky to bask in it, curls bouncing behind him. "Destroya, it feels good to be back." 

And Ghoul isn't the most eloquent person there is, so all he says is, "Yeah."

"Now we've gotta make sure the brothers can see Her again soon." 

Aaaand just like that, the relief of seeing the sun crashes and burns. "Way to kill a mood."

Even with one eye, Jet's glare is enough to get Ghoul shaking in his boots. "Let's go."

\-------------

It doesn't take long to find the Doc. He's moved up to Zone One, the crew's tents and the van still being set up and everything. Zone Rats mill around the place, probably a bunch of fresh meat getting used to the sands. Ghoul can make out Cola standing with his hands over his eyes, a bandanna over his mouth, and a look of utter shock all over his face. He runs back inside to get the Doc and Pony, and by the time Jet swerves to a stop beside the camp, everyone and their brother are waiting for them.

Young Rats crowd around and whisper, and as Ghoul and Jet pile out of the 'Am, he can vaguely make out some of the comments.

"I thought they were dead."

"I heard they'd been turned into Crows."

"Dude, top left, I fucking saw one'a the brothers in a Mask."

"No fucking shit?"

Ghoul's blood runs cold. They're already going on runs?

Before he can turn and ask for more information, Pony and Cola are out and asking questions. Pony drags Jet into a hug that Jet doesn't look like he really wanted (but then again, they're all so touch-starved human contact is welcome in any form) and starts going  _ off _ . "We thought you were all dead! We thought you'd been taken by BLI, and-"

"Stop hogging them, Pony," Cola cuts in, but Pony continues with their rambling.

"And you'd been Wiped and turned into Dracs and-"

And then Doc pipes up from behind them all, "And what Pony is trying to say is, what the fuck. And  _ where _ the fuck are the others?"

Ghoul looks over at the Doc. "Y'know, old man, for someone who can't even stand up, you're pretty intimidating."

"I better be. Took years to perfect this glare." Doc pulls Ghoul over, and for a second, Ghoul thinks maybe he'll get a hug or something. The thought is dashed by a hard hit upside the head.

"Ouch, what the hell, Doc?" Ghoul rubs at the place where Doc hit him.

"Oh, rub some sand on it, you baby. That's what you get for being a dumbass," Doc says, and then he starts turning his wheels, probably to grab Jet and give him the same treatment, but then he stops in place. 

Ghoul turns to look too and finds everyone staring at Jet's embarrassed face. Specifically, at his eye patch. Doc starts moving towards Jet to get a closer look. "Now, what happened there, kid?"

"Pigs gave me a souvenir." Jet tries to sound more okay with it than Ghoul thinks he possibly could be. 

Then Pony turns to Ghoul, grabs him by the face, and inspects his scars until Ghoul tugs away. "Fuck off."

"Let's get you crash queens inside, and you can tell us everything that happened over some good ole dog food."

"Oh goodie, my favorite." 

\-------------

Jet does most of the explaining while Ghoul tries not to gag over his food, parroting most of what Ghoul told him in their time at the Lobby. For those tuning in for the first time in a while, it was somethin' like Jet and Kobra getting taken and Poison and Ghoul doing some stupid shit to get them back and getting themselves taken too in the process. And then the Youngbloods helping Jet and Ghoul out and Poison apparently being Wiped. And then they went to the Lobby and got healed up, and now they're here.

Yeah. Fun.

"So, you saw Poison in the facility?"

Ghoul exhales softly. All he's been able to think about is Wiped Poison, rebellion gone, colorless, and confused. (It's not been a great past week.) "Yeah, Korse had him interrogate me. He…he looked like he was getting close to finding out the truth. He was taking it pretty well that I knew him, at least."

"Any chances he can snap out of it enough to stop taking the Pills?" Pony asks, and Cola's face screws up (BL facilities and Wiping is never a good topic to bring up around Cola. He's got a shitty history with that kinda stuff).

Ghoul shrugs. "I mean, yeah, but he'd need the help of someone else."

"Rumors have been going around of seeing Kobra in the Zones as a Mask, you know. Maybe he's heard something about who he used to be, or the Zones reminded him of old memories?"

"If BL sent Kobes out to the Zones, they must've been sure he wouldn't remember anything. But Poison, they're keeping in. Plus, the state he was in, he was so close to realizing the truth. There could be a way he finds it out."

"Well ain't that just shiny. Why'd BL have to take the pretty ones?" Doc says. "Moving on. We've got some news ourselves you just might want to hear."

Ghoul's pretty used to the Doc to be a bit brash, so he brushes it off (not that he wanted to talk about how traumatized he is anyways). "Whatcha got for us, Dr. Double D?"

Pony hops up from their spot on a makeshift table. "Follow me, ladies." They walk right out of the tent, and Jet and Ghoul scramble to follow.

Cherri trails closely behind, more inclined to actually fill in the boys than the other two, apparently. "The rebels that you ran with at the Base, they came back with loads of intel on shit BL is boutta pull. Apparently, the East Coast…well, it's not as blown away as we thought. The Masks, they had all this shit, blueprint plans 'n stuff, getting ready to build another Batt City, but this time in, uh, in…. Pony, what's it called?"

"New York, dumbass." Pony comes to a stop at the next tent and pulls back the flap, letting them all inside. All around the tent are stacks of papers and hard drives barely organized. They pull out a map from the corner and unroll it on the table. It's a map of the United States, pre the Wars. "They're gonna take the East too. Worst part is, there's already a few colonies and shit surviving other there from real people. We've been trying to get some radio service to reach them and tell them about what's coming, but we can't get a solid enough wave. Hence us setting up in Zone Uno." 

Ghoul shudders at the thought of BL being everywhere, of taking everything. The world is supposed to be full of colors, and all BL wants is to take that away. And Ghoul can't let that happen. Colorless is not how the world should be. That's why he reached out to the Joys to take down BL in the first place.

He just wants to see some life again—no more all-white, monotonous, emotionless way of living. 

"We have to stop this," Ghoul says lowly, fists clenched and jaw tight. "We can't let this happen. They can't take over everything."

"First, we gotta get the brothers back, though. And then we'll talk," Jet says, tone firm. 

Part of Ghoul knows that postponing saving the world to save some brothers seems silly. But it's not just any brothers. It's the  _ Venom _ Brothers. The faces of the rebellion, the leaders of the bitchy lil' crash queens who fight for their right to party. 

And when Ghoul looks around at the other faces, he knows they're thinking the same exact thing (except maybe Pony, who, upon closer inspection, appears to be higher than the Empire State and is currently trying to figure out what side is up on the map). What's a rebellion without Party Poison? It's fucking nothing. That's what it is.

"So, what's the plan then? Cos all this talk ain't getting us nowhere, boys." Doc grumbles from his chair.

"Is there any other way you can think of to contact the East Coast? Maybe we could drive there or something?"

"You clearly do not know your geography." Pony scoffs. "That'd take a week, at least. And I don't think there are any Dead Pegasus stations out in Central America. Not to mention, the radiation that's sitting there waiting to poison your lungs. Our only way to contact them is via radio. But, even with our best hackers working on this, it's still proving difficult to get a good enough connection using BL's transmitters."

"Where's Kobra when you need him?" 

"Then that's yet another thing we'll need the brothers for. You said that Poison seemed close to figuring out what happened, though, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Hey! Hey!" 

Everyone turns to the door of the tent at the sounds of a Rat yelling. Ghoul and Cherri duck their heads through the flaps on the door, and it doesn't take too long to find the source.

The girl sticks out like a sore thumb in her BL jail-jumpsuit and her dyed-black pigtails.  Juvee, Ghoul thinks.

"Who's that?" He asks Cherri, just in case he knows. They step outside of the tent fully, the rest of the group not far behind. 

"Not a clue," Pony says.

Then the Juvee catches sight of them and runs over. "Hey, you! Are you the famed  _ Ghoul _ ?" 

"Who's askin'?" Ghoul squints at her when she stops, hands on his hips. He's never seen her before in his life. 

The Juvee sticks out a hand to shake. "'M Lyn-z. I'm an old friend of Poison's, from the Lobby." Then she looks up and notices Jet from behind where Ghoul is standing.

"Oh-ho, Jetty, I haven't seen you since your hair was still short! C' mere!" And then she pulls Jet into a hug that he seems mildly uncomfortable with.

Cherri clears his throat. "Hate to break up the reunion, or whatever, but uh...Why are you here exactly?"

"Good question. Let's go inside, shall we?"

They file back into the tent, and Lyn-z takes in the maps and papers everywhere. "Oh, wow. Nice. Anyways," she hops up on the table and stares at them. "I just got out of BL a few days ago, if you can't tell. And Poison's got a message to deliver. I talked to him a bunch, helped him remember some shit. He's off his pills, got Kobra to do the same, and they're trying to figure out what to do. They asked me to give you this. Dunno what it is, though." Lyn-z hands over a piece of paper to Jet.

He unfolds it and reads aloud a frequency and then, "My memory's still a bit fuzzy, but it's intact enough to want to take BL the fuck down. Tell me what you need, and we'll do our best from the inside. Call me, 'winky face'." Jet sets down the note, hope on his face for the first time in a while. "Dumbass."

Dr D spins in his chair to grab the paper and read it over again. "Well, then. Pony, grab the radio."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are very much appreciated (and occasionally help remind me this story even exists to begin with)  
> xxstella


	17. in god we trust (but we'll never really know what got discussed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i didnt disappear for multiple months again!  
> this chapter...it took so forcing lmao but eventually i was able to write something I'm somewhat happy with so i hope you guys like it! its a bit longer than usual, consider it a getting-through-this-year gift lmfao  
> speaking of, happy early new years! i cant wait for this year to be over jesus. lets hope next year is better (the bar is set pretty low 2021, i believe in u)  
> feel free to complain about how shit this year was in the comments if you so please  
> enjoy!  
> (title from room where it happens)

Gerard- no, _Party Poison_ \- had found the radio on the side of the street. The thing was small, rectangular, and black, easy to shove into his coat and pretend like it was nothing. Once he'd gotten home, he'd put it in his nightstand and locked it there, hoping no one would find it. Now, he waits anxiously for news. Every second he stays in this City without doing _something_ pains him now that he knows what's going on. The brainwashing, the murder, the censorship of _everything._

The land of the free, home of the brave, that's what this country was always supposed to be. IN GOD WE TRUST, Poison remembers reading somewhere. 

(It comes back to him then- the memory of a crumpled green piece of paper or something. A person in blue and white polka-dotted leggings had given it to him once. Poison tries to latch on to the fleeting memory, but his head begins to ache, and it's gone before he knows it.)

There's a knock on the door to Poison's office, and Poison snaps back into focus. He looks up to see an awkward-looking colleague standing there. "Way, Korse wants to see you." 

"Um, I'll be right there." Poison says, shuffling some random papers on his desk to look like he's doing something.

The person at the door's eyebrows furrow, but they don't say anything, just turn and leave.

Poison sits back in his chair, staring at the white ceiling. What could Korse want? Did he somehow find Poison's radio? Does he know that Poison's off his pills?

_No… not possible_. The nightstand is locked, and Poison's been pretty good at covering up his emotions.

So, what could it be?

Poison walks on autopilot to the Office. He nods at the poor crow that has to stand outside of the Office at all times. The crow looks at him, and Poison pretends that maybe the look on her face is one of pity and not of complete disregard. 

"I have been given instructions to take you to the roof. Come with me," The crow says, barely waiting for an acknowledgment before leading Poison to the elevators. Poison stands in the far corner of the silver box while the crow punches in the floor number and stares blankly at the closing doors. 

They suffer through the deafeningly silent ride before the elevator beeps and opens, and suddenly Poison is out in the sky. His eyes adjust quickly to the dull sunlight and pale blue of the technology-controlled weather. This is a Sunny Day C-type.

Better Living's HQ is the tallest building in Batt City and subsequently has the best view. A 360˚ showcase of the most controlled and 'perfect' City known to man, with its monochromatically white buildings in an even grid. From here, you can almost pretend the citizens look happy.

It is not only Korse waiting for Poison as he steps off the elevator but his beloved mother, the Director, as well. She stands by the large satellite disks, back straight and hands clasped in front of her. The Director's slanted eyes follow Poison as he walks towards them, her expression completely blank save for the tiniest quirk in her lips, an attempt at a content face. Korse stands with his back to Poison, watching the City that he's helped keep Better, back straight as a rod and hands clasped.

"Hello, Mr Way. Thank you for meeting with us." Only the Director's mouth moves as she speaks. 

"Hello, Director. Korse," Poison says. Korse's shoulders twitch slightly, but Poison gets no other response. 

"Look around, Mr Way. This is our Better City that we have worked so hard to keep and maintain." The Director keeps her eyes on her son as he makes a show of looking out across the city skyline. She pauses, but something tells him it's not for him to speak. She begins to move, pacing slowly to the edge of the roof. Poison follows. "Perhaps you are aware that our City has begun to become overpopulated."

_Not true._ If anything, with all the people fleeing or getting sent to centers to become dracs, the population has _decreased._

"We want to spread our Better City to the rest of the world, Mr Way. We want to share our fortune with others." The Director turns away to look out at the City, now standing next to Korse. Poison joins them. 

"Of course," he says.

"If you remember from your Schooling, America is much bigger than our tiny City. Across the country, there is the East Coast. We wish to spread our Better-ness to the East Coast as well."

Poison fights to keep his jaw from dropping to the ground. They want to build another City? But…but _why?_

Korse finally turns to look at Poison, dark eyes piercing. "And we want you to run it."

Poison's blood turns cold. This was not what he was expecting at all when he came up here. He barely stops himself from showing his emotions on his face or from blurting out something inappropriate like, 'What the actual _fuck?_ ' 

He does not say this. He waits for Korse to continue.

"You have been preparing for this all of your life. Of course, we thought that you would be taking over this Battery City. But now that we have discovered that the radiation in the East Coast has almost completely dissipated, enough for us to construct another dome similar to this one and inhabit the place, we thought you would be perfect to run the new City."

Poison squints out at this City, any possible words to say eluding him. _Fuck_. "Thank you for considering me for this position," He chokes out. "I would be honored to help lead another Better Living society." 

The Director's face contorts into a painful-looking smile. "Perfect. Korse, will you show him to the radios?"

Korse says nothing but turns on his heels and gestures for Poison to follow. Korse takes him back down two floors (not much is more painful than an elevator ride with Korse) and then to a large room to the right. The exterminator opens the door to reveal walls of radio equipment and surveillance cameras. 

"This is to communicate with the working site on the East Coast. We have discreetly begun building the groundwork for the dome and the City's buildings." 

Poison stares at the construction sites shown through the computer screens and shudders. 

"We will start briefing you on the progress of the City regularly and you will be invited to meetings about the future of the new City. If you ever need to contact the construction site, you can use these radios." Korse gives Poison a quick rundown on how to use the radio, and Poison commits it all to memory carefully. 

In the end, Korse takes Poison back to the elevator. They stand together in silence as they wait for it to arrive on their level. Poison's skin begins to itch with the need to get far away. The elevator tings as it opens, and Korse steps inside. 

"I hope you do a Better job at the East Coast," Korse says. Poison nods dutifully and decides he will take another elevator.

"Yes, sir."

\------------- 

Poison runs through the house, up to his room. He spills perfectly sharpened pencils out of a jar to find the key at the bottom and uses it to open his nightstand. The light from the windows isn't enough to see much in the approaching dusk, but Poison doesn't want to turn on his lights and alert others of his presence. He fumbles through the cabinet until he finds it.

He turns on the blocky radio and crosses his fingers. _Should've put a time on the note._

He waits. 

The sun sets fully. His family members come home and go to their rooms or the kitchen. He sits on his bedroom floor and waits. 

And then- a crackle. Static. Someone has tuned into his station. Poison almost cries with relief when he hears someone ask, "Poison?"

Poison fumbles with the radio before bringing it up closer to his mouth so that he can be quieter. "Hey, it's- it's Poison."

"Guys! I got him!" The voice shouts to others. The person sounds so familiar but just out of reach. 

"Pois?" Another voice asks softly.

Poison clears his throat. "Uh, yeah?" 

"Destroya, it's good to hear you're back," Comes another voice, and Poison's starting to have a hard time keeping track of who's who. 

There's shuffling on their end. "Okay, everyone's here." The first voice says. Something in Poison's brain clicks, and he's pretty sure that that's Jet. 

"Hey, Pois!" Exclaims someone way too excitedly. Their voice is higher…maybe a girl?

"Hi," Poison responds awkwardly. "I've got some news."

"Destroya, do we have news too," the girl says.

"Lyn-z?" Poison guesses, hoping he's right. 

"Hey, babe. So, get this, apparently, one Batt City wasn't enough. They've gotta have _another_ one out on the- "

"The East Coast, yeah. How'd you guys know?"

"The intel the rebels brought back. There's like- a whole rebel group over there, and BL wants to turn them into the next Batt City Citizens." Jet says. 

Now, _that_ was news. 

"There's rebels over there? But Korse said-"

"What, and you believe anything that that son of bitch says?" 

" _Ghoul,"_ Jet reprimands. 

Poison glares at the air in front of him. "How about you try being brainwashed and tell me how good your critical thinking is then." 

"Okay, calm your tits, you two. What'd Korse say to you, Pois?" 

Poison takes a deep breath. "He said they were making another City. And that…well, that they want me to run it."

He gets a loud, messy response that goes something along the lines of:

" _What?_ " (-Ghoul)

"Hell-to-the- _f_ _uck_ -to-the-no!" (-Lyn-z)

"Oh my Witch." (-the other person that Poison has yet to identify)

"Makes sense, I guess." (-Jet)

"They showed me these radios they have to communicate with them, too." 

"They have those? Jet, we could use those!"

"I know, Cherri." So that's who the other person is. "Look, Pois, we've been trying to reach the rebels over on the East Coast but that's kinda hard when we don't even know what we're trying to connect to."

"So…what do you want me to do?" Poison asks, shifting on the floor. He can't help but feel blind, like he's looking at this with one eye covered. It's hard to imagine the full image when he's just started seeing the bits and pieces. They're only a group of down-and-out rebels against a giant corporation that has hundreds of soldiers ready to blast their heads off without another thought. And now, adding another City into the mix, plus the news that Poison has to lead it… His brain is getting too loud and crowded to sift through and make sense of anything. 

"Never thought I'd see the day Poison asked for directions," Lyn-z snickers. There's the faint sound of a slap and then an 'Ouch!' from Lyn-z in the background.

"Normally you call the shots, Pois," Jet says, sounding just as uncomfortable as Poison feels. 

Poison grits his teeth. Of _course,_ he's supposed to be the leader. "Okay, but I have no fucking clue what I'm doing here, guys. Spitball, what could we do?"

"You could sneak into the room and send a message out?" Cherri Cola (Poison thinks that's his full name) suggests. 

"No. Not only would I get caught, but the radios also only go to the inside of the construction sites." Poison thinks of the security cameras from the room. All they'd shown was the half-built foundations for the new City. There hadn't been any sign of life other than crows overseeing the construction (most of Better Living's building was done with 3D printing and computers nowadays).

"Is there a way to make an announcement across the site so that the outside could hear it too?"

Ghoul asks. 

"Uh, maybe, I dunno."

"Could you hack the airwaves, Pony?" Jet interjects.

"Es posible, pero…"

Poison slumps back against his bed, head against the sheets. "Can we work on overthrowing our own, fully-built City first?"

Static. Then, Ghoul: "I mean, he's got a point." 

"Thank you, Ghoul. Now, what are we going to do about _our_ City?"

"Would going in guns blazing be a valid plan?"

"Didn't exactly work last time, did it?"

"Now we have two guys on the inside. Maybe we should use that to our advantage." Jet suggests. Poison can hear him drumming his fingers on a table, and Poison decides to join him in the thoughtful fidgeting. Grabbing a pencil from the nightstand, Poison begins twirling it, trying to get a thought process running. 

Then, an idea starts to formulate in Poison's mind. "We could get you guys in, undercover. You could pretend to be dracs or something? And then we get you guys in, get to the HQ, and from there…"

"We burn that shit to the GROUND!" 

"Ghoul, no."

"Ghoul, _yes._ "

From downstairs, Poison hears his mother calling him to eat. "I have to go. We'll talk more about the logistics tomorrow, same time."

\-------------

It's much later, in the early hours of the morning, when Poison finds himself in the same position as before. He sits back on his floor with his radio clutched in hand. The room is entirely dark, save for the alarm clock reading 4:18 am in bright white numbers. His eyes itch and blur as he looks at the digits, but they won't close, even now. (Trust him, he's been trying to sleep for the past 5 hours.)

Poison doesn't even know why he's sitting with the radio now, what he's even waiting for. For someone to talk to? And yet, all the people he could talk to are people who know everything about him while he doesn't know a thing about them (or himself either, frankly). They're people who know his past and who've fought by him for years, and he doesn't know jack diddly squat about any of that shit. He can't even distinguish their names from their voices sometimes! 

It's now 4:20 (haha). Great. Poison watches as the seconds tick, slow as molasses. 4:21. Maybe he should try sleeping again. 4:22. What's the use of staying up all night for the chance of a call anyway? 4:23-

There's a soft crackle from the radio. Poison jumps in surprise, almost dropping the thing before catching it and holding it up to his mouth to whisper, "Hello?" 

"… You're awake?" Asks a voice, also whispering. The voice is gruff, perhaps from a lack of sleep, but comforting for some reason. Poison's muscles unclench, and he leans back a bit more against the side of his bed.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep. Who is this?"

"Ghoul- I'm Ghoul."

"Oh."

Poison hadn't expected Ghoul. The part of him that wanted someone to be there wanted someone who _knew_ him, who could tell him things like Jet or Show Pony. 

There's a stiff silence engulfing them. Poison is almost certain there was something up with himself and Ghoul before they got captured. Even if he doesn't remember anything exact, the look Ghoul gave Poison back in the interrogation room a week or so ago… said a lot. 

"How are you?" Ghoul eventually asks.

"I'm okay, I guess. Just found out that my life is a lie, that I've been brainwashed, that my mother is probably the cause, and that I used to be a rebel leader. Y'know, a leader of the people I've been taught to hate since I was a child. And now these greedy bastards want to build another City apparently. And they want _me_ to run it? Like, okay, dude. So yeah, I've been doing just dandy. Been doing _great._ " Poison says. He hears a soft exhale on the other side.

"Damn, rough week, huh? Bet I could top that, though." Ghoul challenges.

"Yeah, with what?" 

Ghoul chuckles. "Well, for starters, I got shot in the shoulder and it's sore as _shit_. And then my fucking mouth was sewn shut. And _then_ , I got broken out of the place I was being kept in only to be taken not to home, but to some Underground place, that is the exact opposite of everything good in my life. Had to live there for a while, and hated every second of it. Just found out that the City I've despised since I was a child is gonna have a sibling soon out on the East Coast. On top of all of that, I managed to get this great guy that I like stuck in the headquarters of a dystopian, emotion-sucking corporation, brainwashed and confused, and I can't really do much to get him out without the possible risk of death of myself and others."

"Okay, but were you _brainwashed?_ No? Then I don't wanna hear it, bomb boy."

There's a sharp inhale on the other side, and Poison wonders if he'd said something wrong. He hears the creaking sound of old leather and vinyl. "What was that?"

"The Diner booths. We came back for some supplies and then decided to stay the night." There's a pause as Ghoul lets out a jaw-cracking yawn. "I'm sitting out in the living room, so I don't disturb the others."

"Oh, okay." Poison is too tired to ask what the Diner is. 

There's static for a moment, and then Ghoul mumbles, "I'm happy you're still kicking, Pois. You scared me for a sec."

"Y'know it not your fault, right?" Poison says. Because this he knows, deep down in his bones.

"Sure does feel like it, though."

Poison mulls it over. He thinks maybe he once blamed Ghoul for this mess, but Ghoul was just trying his best to take down a company that never should have existed to begin with. So, he says the first thing that pops into his head: "Well, then. I forgive you."

There's a sniff from the other side and more shifting in the booth. "Thank you."

Poison's chest lifts a little bit, and his shoulders sag. His eyes start to dip a bit. "Ghoul? Think you could sleep now?"

"Yeah." 

"'Kay, cos I'm tired as shit. G'night."

Ghoul scoffs. "G'night, Pois. Don't die on me anytime soon, okay?"

Something in Poison's heart twinges at that, and he feels warm for a second. "Promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys sm for reading, you guys mean a lot  
> hope this chapter was ok! constructive criticism is always heavily welcomed lmao  
> and happy new year!! i really hope this one is better  
> until next time  
> xxlee


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS   
> ITS HERE  
> i was gonna write an epilogue but like idk i might i might not idk how i would write it? leave a comment if you want one lol  
> also I'm just   
> i finished something im so happy lmaoo  
> I HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR STICKING AROUND THIS LONG   
> I REALLY APPRECIATE AND LOVE ALL OF YOU MUAH  
> ENJOY!

Everyone gathers at WKIL's setup to see the others off. The Youngbloods, Orange County and Neon Queen, and a few other rebels who went with him to the Bases are all there, waiting with bated breath. This could be the chance to change everything.

When Kobra pulls up outside of the tents, Jet stumbles over himself, running to meet him. Kobra slides out of the car in full Crow attire before being half-tackled by a mess of afro and leather jacket. He stands stiffly while Jet wraps him up in his arms. Ghoul walks over slowly, deliberately, trying to gauge how much Kobra remembers.

"…Hello?" Kobra says, still as a statue. 

Jet seems to get the message and drops his arms, stepping back quickly. "I'm so sorry, I don't even know what came over me."

"It's fine. Uh, Jet, right?"

Ghoul sucks in a breath as he watches Jet's face fall. "Yeah."

"Hey, Kobes," Ghoul interjects, stepping between the two. He squints up at the Crow, trying to see despite the blinding white of Kobra's outfit. Kobra is  _ wrong _ , something in the way he holds himself so fundamentally different from the usual, and yet his face is the same emotionless poker face he always sported. It's painfully unfamiliar and familiar at once, good but with just an itch of bad. This is not their Kobra, and Ghoul has to remember that.

"Hello," Kobra says. 

The three of them stand in the sand, unsure of what to do now. Ghoul can feel Pony's eyes on them from the tent and almost wishes they would join. 

"So. The Drac costumes." 

"Oh." Kobra reaches back into the car, shoulders relaxing now that he has something to do. "Here. Sorry, they're a bit bloody."

Jet and Ghoul take the mostly white jumpsuits. The stains are minimal and easily excusable. Dracs get dirty all the time, right? Ghoul starts tugging his suit on over his boots. It's so big he doesn't even have to struggle. He rolls up the sleeves and tucks the pant legs into his bootlegs, hoping it looks believable. Jet's suit fits a bit better. He shoves his curls into a bun at the back of his head so his afro won't be visible under the mask. Kobra reaches back into the car and holds up two more suits. "Aren't there more of you?"

Jet looks back at the tent and waves for Cherri and Pony to come out, followed by the rest of the rebels there. Pony all but runs. "Destroya, is it good to see you! You pro'lly don't remember me, but that's okay." 

Cherri nods his head awkwardly. "Hey."

"Hello. Here are the suits." Kobra hands them over, barely making eye contact. Cherri and Pony slip into them quickly. 

Orange County lugs over some bags full of explosives, Neon Queen helping out. Kobra pops the trunk for them, and they shove the goods in, Neon stopping to squeeze Ghoul's good shoulder as she passes. 

"Ready?" Kobra asks.

Then a voice comes from the tent. "Keep your guns close and your boots tight, boys. I would like you all back in one piece, please." The Doc says. Ghoul salutes him, and Pony lets out a little "Whatever you say, Doc." 

Kobra glances at the Doc before looking back down at the ground. "Let's go."

Ghoul shifts in his stolen Drac suit. Jet glances over from next to him, looking equally as uncomfortable. Their eyes catch, stubbornness and rebellion shining in their irises. They will not be leaving an intact Battery City.

Ghoul spies on Cola in the passenger seat. Cola's hands are clenched in his lap so tightly that his knuckles are whiter than his jumpsuit. His Crow Mask is already on, so Ghoul can't see his expression, but Ghoul's sure it's far from happy. Cola's got some shit history with the City. Then, Ghoul's gaze lands on Pony, who's sat on his other side. They're looking out the window, unfocused. Ghoul reaches around them and pulls them into an awkward side hug. Pony seems confused at first but goes with it, and Ghoul thinks maybe they're cool now.

Finally, Ghoul looks at Kobra through the rearview mirror. The Crow looks emotionless as ever, staring out at the road, but Ghoul catches how his fingers flex and unflex around the steering wheel. It takes only about thirty minutes to reach the City from the tents and soon enough, they're arriving at the gate. Ghoul, Pony, and Jet shove the masks on over their heads. The stench of sweaty skin and blood hits Ghoul's nose full-force, and he tries not to flinch. 

The Drac at the gate checks Kobra's cards and peers in at the rest of the group before nodding and waving a hand. Kobra drives through. 

And then they're in, easy as that. Kobra drives through the City, and Ghoul tries not to look too suspicious as he takes in the sights through the mask's small eyeholes. Even on runs, Ghoul has never been to the City, only doing jobs out in the Zones. The slums are full of run-down droids and little orphans running around. It's dirty and smells, walls slathered with white BL posters that are in turn drawn over with calls for Destroya. 

The further they drive into the City, the taller and cleaner the buildings get. Eventually, they reach the headquarters tower, looming over the City ominously, white and imposing. Ghoul's fingers begin to shake with adrenaline, and his stomach twists uncomfortably at the sight. 

The four dressed as Dracs stay behind Kobra carefully, trying to move as Drac-like as possible. The HQ is mostly empty, save for an android at the front desk. Kobra scans his ID against the desk then heads to an elevator, clicking the button. Ghoul stands as still as possible, trying very hard not to tap his feet. What if the android can tell? What if the security people can tell? How dumb is this plan, really?

The elevator tings and opens, revealing a Crow on the inside.  _ Fuck.  _

The group shuffles into the elevator, Ghoul staring at the Crow out of the corner of his eyes. He can feel his heart beat faster and faster, can hear it thumping in his ears, and then gets even more scared that maybe the Crow can hear it too.  _ Calm down. Freaking out isn't helping anyone. _ And for a brief second, Ghoul's heartbeat slows back to normal.  _ They can't tell.  _

The elevator tings and they all leave, trying to get away and to the room they need to go to as quickly as possible. And then: "Excuse me," the Crow says from behind them.

_ Oh, shit _ . This is it. This is when they get caught. They are so, so, so fucked. Ghoul can see it now, the Director laughing at them as they get dragged away to get turned into real Dracs, not just people in the masks.

"Excuse me!" The Crow calls out again, and Ghoul and Jet share a look, almost running at this point.  _ Why did they think they could ever do this? _

Kobra turns then, stopping in his tracks, the others stopping with him.  _ What is he  _ doing? "Yes?"

"You dropped this," the Crow says, holding out Kobra's ID. The group collectively sags in relief. That was way, way,  _ way, _ too close.

"Thank you." Kobra takes the card, and the group carries on down the hallway. Ghoul can hear the Crow going back to the elevator, and he risks a look back as they take a right turn. The Crow catches his eye, and Ghoul scutters along, looking away quickly. 

Kobra mutters memorized directions as they make their way through the hallways, eventually ending up at the door marked SECURITY. "Jackpot."

The Crow scans his ID against the scanner, and the door opens for them. Ghoul and Jet take the lead then, shooting the guards before they even turn, zappers on stun. They rush forward in the small room to grab the unconscious workers off their chairs, dragging them to the wall. The white jumpsuit of the security guards matches Ghoul's, minus the blood and the mask. He almost feels bad as he sets the guard against the wall, binding her wrists with rope and using some old tape to cover her mouth. Looking to his right, he sees that Jet's done the same thing with his guard. 

Over at the desks, Cola and Pony are inspecting the technology. The room is small but full of screens showing every little corner of the HQ. Pony is already typing away at a small laptop while Cola inserts one of his USBs into some hardware something. To be honest, Ghoul isn't really savvy when it comes to hacking shit. Bombs are more of his style. 

Soon enough, the images on the HQ's camera feeds turn into a looping video of the past 10 seconds, in which nothing has happened. If anyone looks to the cameras, they won't be able to even tell. 

Pony pokes their head out through the door to check if the coast is clear, and then Ghoul and Jet drag their guards out to the small janitor's closet across the way. 

"Okay, we're all good. Now to find Poison," Jet says. And off they are once more to the elevator. 

"He should be on level 4, where the desk-job Crows are," Kobra says, as though they hadn't gone over this in their briefing from the night before.

"Sounds good."

The elevator doors open again to reveal an office space full of cubicles and off-shooting meeting rooms. Kobra walks through with purpose, head held high, and if anyone shoots them odd looks for being an entire Drac crew in the office space, he glares at them until they cower in fear. They reach Poison's room with no interruptions. 

When they enter, Poison's sitting behind his desk, chewing at his lip anxiously. Something in Ghoul just  _ relaxes _ , comes finally to peace at the sight of Poison, alive and safe and okay. Ghoul stares for a few seconds, even as Poison looks up and the others surge forward to embrace him. Jet goes first, holding Poison tightly to his chest. "I'm Jet.  _ Please _ don't ever do this again." 

Poison smiles when he pulls back. "I'm not planning to, don't worry." 

Next come Cherri and Pony, Pony lifting Poison off the ground to hug him, and Cherri offering an awkward shoulder touch. It hits Ghoul then, how much more Cherri, Pony, and Jet must've missed Poison, and here Ghoul is, acting like he had the right to miss a dude he'd known for a month or two. When Poison turns to him, still standing in the doorway, Ghoul offers a wave and a nod and intends for that to be all. But then Jet takes him by the arm and drags him over. "And this is Ghoul."

Poison gives him a soft smile, and a hello, and Ghoul's heart is suddenly in his throat, and what is he supposed to do with that? Poison pulls him into a hug, and Ghoul tries very hard not to cry. 

"Okay, so. Let's get down to business, boyos," Pony says, and just like that, the atmosphere turns serious. 

Kobra speaks up for the first time since entering Poison's office. "Cherri and Pony will go to disable security measures at the walls so that the guards can't call for reinforcements or start an emergency alarm. The rest of you, come with me and we'll get the Director." 

Cherri and Pony go their separate way, and the remaining four, the Killjoys plus Ghoul, head out to the Director's office. Kobra and Poison lead them, with Jet and Ghoul awkwardly walking together. Once they make it to the hallways, Poison hangs back a little to join Jet and Ghoul. "So, uh, this is probably not a good time, but was Ghoul ever in our crew?" 

Ghoul purses his lips and shakes his head no. 

"Huh." When Ghoul turns to look at Poison, Poison's looking back. "Why not?"

"You didn't like me very much in the beginning, dude." 

Jet chuckles a bit at that, and then his face turns pensive. "Actually, why  _ weren't _ you in our crew? You basically acted like it." 

Ghoul has no idea what to say to this. 'Thanks'? 'A bit late for this conversation'? He shrugs. 

"Well then. Would you like to be a Killjoy, Ghoul?" Poison asks, a grin on his face. Jet smiles too, and Ghoul feels all warm and cozy and shit. Wowow, look who's finally getting a family. 

"Yeah, sure," he says, a smile growing to match theirs- his  _ crewmates'.  _ Kobra even turns back to offer a small smile. 

And off they go, as a crew, to the Director. Except for one slight complication. She's not in her office.

Kobra and Poison go into the office first but soon usher the other two in as well. "She's not here," Poison says, and sure enough, she's nowhere to be found. The office isn't massive either, just a white desk with windows behind it. "And there were no guards either. Weird. How did she…?"

"Maybe one of the workers reported us for suspicious behaviour?" Kobra says, jaw tight. "Fuck, then what do we do? Where could she be?" 

Ghoul turns to Poison, the only other person who could have an idea. After a second, something in his face hardens. "I know where. The roof."

"Wait, guys, look." Jet points out the window, where they can see rebels from the Zones starting to stream through the walls. Bursts of color pop up against the monochrome skyline. "Pony and Cola did it." 

"At least something went right." 

They change direction and start walking towards the elevator when they pass a room labeled PRIVATE. Poison stops suddenly, causing the others to bump into him. "This the radio room."

"Think you should say something?" Jet asks. 

"I mean, yeah. The Citizens being invaded by rebels and have no idea that we're on their side." Poison uses his card to open the room, revealing a massive radio setup, five times bigger than the Docs setup at least. Ghoul stares in wonder. There are screens to one side, showing the City and the HQ entrance, and on the other side of the room showing a construction site. He points to the screen showing the entrance to the HQ. 

"That's how she knew," He says, talking about the Director. The others nod. Poison makes his way to a microphone on the back wall. 

"What should I even say?" 

"'Hey, people, don't freak out about the rebels, they're here to help, go fight this corporation that's been brainwashing you for all your life' sounds pretty good to me," Jet says. 

Poison rolls his eyes and turns to the microphone before switching it on. A red light from above turns on. "Hello citizens of Battery City. This is Gerard Way, the son of the Director speaking. Or as some of you may know me, Party Poison. That's right, I'm a rebel, a Killjoy. And I know you've been taught to hate people like me, but I need you to listen. Better Living Industries has been brainwashing you. Everything you've been taught about how bad emotions are, about how you need to be happy with this unsatisfying life, it's all wrong."

Ghoul turns at the sound of running footsteps from outside the door. "We got company, fellas." The three brace themselves against the door as it starts shaking, shouts from Crows demanding entrance, demanding that Poison stop, sound through the wood. Poison looks back at them, and Ghoul nods, a signal for him to continue. 

"Humans are meant to feel things, meant to be creative and to love. Better Living took  _ everything _ from us. They've made us something entirely different and horrible and not what we're supposed to be at all. Those Pills they make you take? They take away your emotions and your memories and make you complacent to their orders and  _ their _ wants. Is that the life you want to lead? A life without  _ free will _ ? I know you're scared. Right now, there are rebels invading. But they're here to help, to help you break  _ free _ . If you don't think I'm right, stay in your houses. But if there's  _ any _ part of you, no matter how small, that knows that I'm right, that feels just a little bit of emotion, help us. Help us help you. Stop taking your pills. Help us to take over. We don't deserve this treatment anymore. It's time to step up. Party Poison out." 

They all turn to look at the camera feeds, waiting. After a minute, the feeds become even more chaotic as Citizens begin joining the rebels, slowly but surely. The Killjoys share a look of triumph before they have to go back to pushing against the door to keep it shut. "Anything else you need to say, Pois, or can we get the fuck out of here?" Jet asks.

"Wait just one sec. Gotta tell the East Coast." Poison turns back to the microphone just as the door starts really getting pounded against. 

"Hurry up, though, please! I don't think we can hold them off that much longer."

Poison presses a few buttons and then flips the microphone back on, turning on a different light. "Hello, East Coast. This is Party Poison calling from the West Coast. I'm not sure how many rebels out there can hear me, but over here at the West we're taking over BL. We're ending it. We encourage you all to take over there, too, because these people are not here to help you. They brainwash you and take your emotions away and take away anything creative or anything you love."

Jet, Kobra, and Ghoul can't hold the door anymore. "Pois, we're gonna have to let them in!" 

Poison turns to glare at them but nods. The three let the door open and pull out their blasters. Around 7 Crows crowd the hallway, all looking pissed and already shooting. "Fuck." 

"You can't let them continue building there. We have to get rid of BL completely, or else they'll keep coming back. After this is over, we will try and keep in contact with you, see if we can orchestrate a supply trade route or something. But for now, you need to take BL out. Thank you. Party Poison out."

Poison switches off the mic and turns to help fight off the Crows. "We can't let them damage the equipment; I need this." 

"We're  _ trying. _ " 

Crows start going down as the Killjoys dodge and return blasts. Eventually, they're able to shut the door to the room behind them again. A couple shots graze Ghoul, but he can't stop. He sees some of Jet's afro get singed as he narrowly avoids a hit to the head. Eventually, all the Crows are down, and the Killjoys are running to the elevators. The HQ is in chaos, shouts and blasts audible from everywhere. That should mean that some of the Crows are on their side, though, so that's good. Ghoul turns to look at Poison, who's holding his side. 

"Whoa, what happened?"

"Got hit, it's okay, keep going, it's not that bad." 

They make it into the elevator, and Jet inspects Poison's wound. Poison was right; the shot didn't hit him straight on but grazed a bit deeper than for comfort. Jet rips a bit of his Drac suit off and wraps it around the wound, but then the elevator doors open. "Look alive," he says.

A deafening sound hits Ghoul's ears immediately, and he looks up to see some kinda aircraft on the roof. It has a big spinny thing on the top that beats and beats in circles, blowing Ghoul's hair back and making way too much noise. Ghoul looks over at Poison to see him squinting against the air, and he can almost imagine how his previous red hair would've looked like in the wind. 

Next to the weird ship thing, Korse and the Director stand, staring at the Killjoys. "We meet again," Korse says with a smug face. He starts shooting, but the crew ducks, blasters all raised and shooting back. Poison lands a hit in the leg, and Korse goes down. Before he can start shooting again, though, the Director lays a hand on his shoulder. 

"It's over, Korse," Poison bites out. 

"Oh, darling, don't you see?" The Director says, smiling without a single emotion. "This will never end." 

Poison gestures out towards the City, thrown into chaos. Ghoul watches as large groups of Rats and Citizens attack the Dracs, shooting and hitting and tackling. A group even broke into the HQ and other buildings around it, searching for more Dracs, more Masks that need to go. "They don't want you anymore. They don't want your 'Better Living'. They just want to  _ live." _

The Director looks on in disdain. "We will start anew. Soon, this will be a mere blip in history." 

Poison shoots at the spinning things at the top of the ship, effectively rendering them useless, but Korse and the Director don't even turn, don't even look to see how their escape plans are ruined. "You're not leaving."

It's Jet who kills the Director in the end. He looks over at the brothers, and they nod, and then he shoots her straight between the eyes. Ghoul gets to take out Korse, scars around his mouth tugging as he smirks at the man before shooting him. And just like that, it's over. 

Kinda. 

The world suddenly feels like fiction, like Ghoul's watching from another perspective. It doesn't feel quite  _ real _ that they've done it, that they've  _ done it.  _ The Director is dead.  _ Korse _ is dead. 

Poison takes him by the arm, making Ghoul jump. "You did it." 

"Not to sound cheesy, but  _ we  _ did it." 

Poison shoots him a look, and Ghoul blinks, and then they're all back in the radio room. Ghoul stares at Jet, and Jet stares at Ghoul. "We did it," Ghoul says. Jet laughs and nods.

Ghoul leans against the door, listening half-heartedly as Poison makes another announcement. 

"This is Party Poison once more. The Director and Korse are dead. Surrender now. It's over."

The Killjoys all share a smile. "It's over."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE DID ITTTTTT  
> ITS OVERRRRRRRR  
> *cries* (idk if thats out of joy or not lmao)  
> thank you guys SO MUCH for sticking with this and reading i love all of you so much   
> if you guys want an epilogue tell me lol or i can maybe just put a chapter explaining how everything plays out in the end? idk lol  
> comments are always appreciated! hope you guys have/had a great day <333  
> xxsimon

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment and tell me what you think (or what I could do with this story). Constructive criticism is always welcome!
> 
> xx,  
> lee


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